Elemental Genesis
by Raven Dragonclaw
Summary: Harry Potter finds himself in the middle of a peaceful park after somehow escaping his uncle's abusive household. However, he does not remember his identity or his past. Now Harry must begin a new life under a new name as an elemental mage. AU 5th Summer
1. Falling into the Abyss

Disclaimer:  Nothing you recognize is mine, it belongs to J.K Rowling and Harry's new name is from the Dragonlance series.  Also, the name of Harry's new guardian came from Madeline L'Engle's A Swiftly Tilting Planet.  I only own the plot, the clans and their members, as well as all of Grey Tower.

This is my first fanfiction, so don't worry, I won't be offended if it comes out bad.  Just flame with a reason and if possible, give me some constructive criticism.  There's always room for improvement.

I had a different idea of what should happen to Harry.  So here it is.  This is an AU about Harry's fifth year summer.

***

Chapter One:  Falling into the Abyss

            All he wanted to do at the moment was die.  He wanted to slip into that dark abyss and find some peace in empty oblivion.  But no, he couldn't do that.  He was the Boy-Who-Lived after all.  The perfect savior of the wizarding world couldn't die.  He had to live on and on, never minding the agony he always one way or another ended up receiving.  After all, he WAS their hero.

            Such were the melancholy thoughts of one fourteen year-old Harry James Potter, lying stiff and bloody on the hard floor of his tiny bedroom.  Well, fourteen now, but in three days time, on July 31st, he would be a proud fifteen.  That is, if he managed to live until then.  It was a private hope of his that he wouldn't.  Life and light were made to be so rejuvenating and vitalizing, but why was it slowly killing him?  He didn't care.  He stopped caring a long time ago.  What he wanted in life never mattered.  Destiny loved to screw with him.

            You see, this morose young man was no ordinary teenager, but he was also a wizard.  For most of the year he attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  There was his true home.  His friends were there, as well as the people who actually cared for his well-being.  The Dursley residence at number 4 Privet Drive in Surrey wasn't home, it was hell on Earth.

            Harry was a sharp contrast to his relatives since he greatly resembled his father, which certainly didn't endear him anymore to them.  He was left in their care because the evil dark lord Voldemort killed his parents.  His father, James Potter, tried to give his family enough time to escape, but died in vain.  His mother, Lily, had pleaded for his life, but Lord Voldemort never showed mercy.  After disposing of the woman, he cast the Killing Curse at the then baby Harry.  However, the curse backfired onto the dark wizard himself, reducing him to little more than a spirit.  Powerless and weakened, he fled.  Harry earned instant celebrity status as well as a lightning shaped scar on his forehead from the encounter.  An orphan, he was sent to live with his mother's non-magical sister, Petunia, and her extremely large husband and son.  He didn't found out about his magical abilities until Hogwarts contacted him when he was eleven.  His messy black hair, skinny build, and green eyes clashed violently with his "family's" pale looks and light hair.

            Currently, those green eyes were dulled dark and glazed over in pain.  His hair stuck to his forehead in an odd mixture of blood and sweat.  His already thin body was now skeletal and had an emaciated appearance, since he hadn't eaten in quite a while.  But he didn't care about that:  he had more important things on his mind.  Last year, he had been included in participating in the dangerous Triwizard Tournament as a fourth competitor.  He did his best even if he was only a wet-behind-the-ears fourth year with incredible luck and tied for first place.  During the last challenge, he and fellow schoolmate/competitor Cedric Diggory chose to take the cup together since both of them felt that they deserved it.  This was a fateful decision.  The cup was a port-key and sent them straight to a graveyard, where Voldemort was waiting.  Peter Pettigrew or Wormtail, a spineless coward devoted to the Dark Lord, killed Cedric and used the already injured Harry to revive his old master.  Harry barely made it out alive and because his blood was used in raising Voldemort back into his old body, the protection his mother gave him was cancelled.  The Ministry of Magic, unlike the Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore, didn't believe his story.  All Harry got was a large pile of gold for "winning" the Tournament, the knowledge that Voldemort was out terrorizing millions of people, and a huge load of guilt on his conscience.  No, he forgot.  Smiling ruefully, he remembered he gave that gold to Fred and George Weasley, the twin prankster brothers of his best friend Ron, for their joke shop.

            Why was death so merciless?  It had seemed that last year also didn't go well for the Dursleys.  A large firm from America had forced his uncle Vernon's drill company, Grunnings, out of business.  Unemployed, the savings that the family had been living off of were almost depleted.  Also, Dudley's large girth and poor eating habits had finally taken its toll.  He had developed a serious heart condition and would need a major surgery to save his life.  This cost a great deal of money; money that the Dursleys didn't have.  Somehow, his uncle saw him as the cause of his misfortune.  Harry could accept being the reason of Cedric's death, but not of this.  So, everyday, he had been receiving "punishment" for something that was beyond the control of any human being.  Aunt Petunia tried to help him at first, but she had to go take care of her "widdle Duddy".  Harry knew better:  Vernon had threatened her.

            Poor Harry couldn't even call for help.  Vernon had strangled his faithful owl, Hedwig, as soon as he got home off of the Hogwarts Express.  He couldn't even give the bird a decent burial since her charred remains were thrown out with the rubbish.  Contacting his godfather Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, or his friends were now out of the question.  Neither Ron nor Hermione had written to him, probably under Dumbledore's orders.  No, he was trapped.

            Lying on the floor waiting to kick the bucket was extremely boring, so he wrote "HELP" in various places around the room.  He wrote in the only available substance since his trunk was locked in the cupboard under the stairs:  his own blood.  The rest of the time he spent staring up at the ceiling, praying that he would just die at that very second.  Those prayers remained unanswered.  He endured days of pain while at night experienced horrific nightmares.  Or, as his scar's red burning reminded him, watched Voldemort kill innocent people.

            He heard heavy footfalls on the stairs.  It begins again.  The door crashed open and his burly, purple-faced uncle commenced his self-appointed task of "disciplining the freak".  Harry barely heard his uncle's fevered ranting.  He didn't care.  He didn't scream, because Harry didn't care.  Harry didn't care for life anymore, he longed for death.

            "Don't give up yet," a melodic whisper said to his ears.  As his uncle's foot continued to batter his weak lungs and ribcage, above him he saw a woman kneeling down near his head.  His uncle apparently couldn't see her.  With a dark beauty that lured the soul, she murmured encouragement to him, telling him to survive.  He voice was like and unlike phoenix song:  healing and strengthening, yet silvery and mysterious.  Silver tendrils mingled with dark blacks and brown strands of hair that didn't refer to age.  Dark blue eyes flecked with silver and gold shone with tears.  Tears, for him?  A regal goddess, she was taking pity on him.  Maybe she was Death…no.  She was telling, pleading, for him to live.  He'd do so.  Only for her, he will continue to live on.

            Vernon Dursley backed away as his nephew began to glow silver.  Powerful winds somehow appeared and surrounded the boy, not letting the violent older man through.  Then it all stopped.  Lowering the arms he flung up to protect his face, he saw that the boy was gone.  Utterly and totally gone.  

            Vernon Dursley fled from the room, feeling more than mortal eyes glare at him.  At night, those invisible eyes would haunt his dreams, accusing him of countless crimes and felonies.  During the day, they would follow him, cursing his soul for its very existence.  He couldn't explain this paranoia, so he of course blamed it on that freak of a nephew.

He gasped as his body hit the cold stone hard.  The night sky above him was a beautiful sight.  He grinned back at the lady, who benignly smiled back at him before he blacked out.  Harry Potter fell into the abyss.

***

How was it?  Please review and let me know if I should continue. –Raven Dragonclaw


	2. The Compassion of Strangers

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Two:  The Compassion of Strangers

            It was a clear night at two in the morning.  Anyone with enough sense in their heads would be peacefully sleeping in their beds, dreaming of things only they would know of.  However, some people do have the sense, but can't for their own reasons.

            The serene atmosphere of the park was soon broken by the sharp click of high heels on stone.  Breezes soon began to blow with much more force than before, some of the branches of the park's trees creaking.  The only other person in the park at this time did not notice any of these details, but he had a very good reason not to.

            Zylle Hawking hated coming home late from work.  She always had to though, since the other executives just "had" to go home to their families.  _Sure they were all family men,_ she thought to herself sarcastically.  _If they were, why the hell do the flirt with me all the time and not actually do the work that they're supposed to do?_  Such is the way of power:  one does not use it wisely and they become easy prey for a person moving up.  She herself practiced that technique to get where she was now.  Improve your own skills and sucker punch those higher up.

            She adjusted her light blazer slightly as she noticed the wind picking up.  As she composed herself, it died down to only a few gusts.  It mussed up her hair as she continued to walk west across the park.  Her home was at the other end and this was the shortest way there, since the park was in the middle of town.

            Zylle was very unappreciative of the attentions she got at work or on the street.  For all they knew, she could be the kind of woman who killed people for enjoyment.  This was the kind of woman Zylle was:  one that knew herself extremely well and who wondered what the hell was wrong with the world.  One would be surprised that the slender thirty-four year old wasn't married.  Pale-skinned, she had a curvy and full slim figure, but she wasn't stick thin.  Oh no, she despised those supermodels who starved themselves just for the sake of beauty, but that once again was her nature.  Her long, messy black hair had managed to get out of the braid she put it in this morning and flew in the gentle wind.  Her gray eyes were alert and sharp, taking in everything that surrounded her.  Though the clans got along peacefully, there were still some people that didn't follow the rules.  Zylle had nothing to fear:  she wasn't the Black Dragon leader of her clan for nothing after all.

            Aiken-Quincy Park was a strangely designed park.  All together a staggering 25 acres, its paths made an interesting design.  If seen from a bird's eye view, one would see a pentagram within a pentagram.  The large paths formed a large star inside the stone fence boundaries of the park's pentagon shape.  In the center of that star was another pentagon, with smaller trails making a star inside that as well.  The park's public place was in that center pentagram, while one could enjoy peace and quiet in the more remote parts of the area.  Aiken-Quincy Park was one of the few signs that Grey Tower Town was anything but normal.

            Zylle was walking across the center pentagram when the sky suddenly darkened.  What could only be described as an extremely violently whirlwind sprung up as if from nothing.  Dropping her suitcase and shielding her face, she tried to use her power to stop it.  The whirlwind, however great was her control, did not stop.  Squinting though the darkness, she saw two forms.  One was clearly that of a tall woman, whose form was of shadows.  Except her eyes that pierced through the gloom with an almost frightening clarity.  Those eyes were a deep midnight blue, flecked with golden yellow and bright silver.  At the woman's feet was the still body of a person, glowing weak silver.  Confused, she murmured, "What the-"

            As abruptly as it started, the tempest ceased. "-hell," Zylle finished eloquently.  The Dark Lady was gone, but the other one was still there, the dim silver aura noticeable in the retreating shade.  She ran to the unmoving form on the ground and was not prepared for what she found.

            It was a boy, about fourteen or fifteen, who was bruised and bleeding beyond belief.  His breathing was wildly erratic and looked to be in a great deal of pain.  When she moved his head onto her lap to help him breathe, she noticed he flinched.  Removing her hand from his head and looking at it, she found it covered with a dark fluid.  It had to be blood.  This was bad.  This kid needed help.  Fast.

            Placing her hands on the boy's thin shoulders, she tapped into her power.  Asking the winds to help her, she closed her eyes and concentrated.  The winds answered her.  With just a breeze and a rustle of leaves, Zylle and the boy disappeared from Aiken-Quincy Park.

            Opening and blinking gray orbs in the harsh light, she found herself exactly where she wanted to be: the reception desk of Grey Tower Sanctuary Hospital.  Thankfully, the boy was still with her, but his condition was getting steadily worse.  Offering gratitude to the winds, she had to think fast for the kid's sake.  From their position on the floor, she was glad the person at the front desk was some she knew.  "Christine!  Get a doctor fast!"

            The younger woman at the counter looked up from the magazine that she had been reading at the frantic voice.  "Zylle?  What-oh my!"  Apparently, she noticed the bleeding person with her.  Grabbing the nearby phone, she punched the numbers in quickly.  Panicky, she said into the receiver, "I need a stretcher at the front desk immediately.  Calling Dr. Diamante!  Dr. Diamante, this is urgent!"

            Zylle hated feeling helpless, but she knew that she had to trust in the hospital's doctors now to help this poor kid.  She would only complicate things.  She was glad that Dr. Diamante was there though.  A great doctor, he was also a good friend of hers.  

A few men and women in white medical suits came up from the lower levels, where the main part of the hospital was located.  The only above ground structures of the facility were the visiting area, the reception desk, and the emergency entrance.  A tall man with graying hair came up after the first group.  Smiling when he saw her, he started jovially, "Zylle!  I didn't expect you to be-" He stopped when he saw the boy in her lap.  Angrily turning to his colleagues, he roared, "WHY ISN'T HE ON THE STRETCHER YET?!  THIS IS CRITICAL!"

Alarmed, one replied, "But sir!  We can't physically lift him without causing more injury to him!"

Here Zylle saw her chance to do something.  "Wait!  I can do it!"

Dr. Diamante returned his gaze to her.  "Really?  If it isn't too much trouble…but please do it quickly.  Time is of the essence here!"

Nodding, she lifted up her hands, manipulating the air currents.  Slowly, the boy rose off of the floor, but he wasn't convulsing in pain like in the previous physical first attempts.  She gently floated him on to the stretcher.  Dr. Diamante made a brief gesture of thanks before he and his co-workers rushed the boy to the emergency room.  Christine frowned at her when she noticed that after thirty minutes, Zylle still hadn't left.  "Zylle, maybe you should go home.  It's pretty late."

Zylle nodded.  She was going home now.  But tomorrow she'll let those idiots at work do something for a change.  She was going to stay her and see how her boy was doing.  _Wait.  **MY**__boy?  Never mind.  I'll stay by his side no matter what.  _As she used the same travel trick as before to go home, she asked the winds to please help that unfortunate young man.

She smiled to herself.  That woman would certainly help him.  Zylle, wasn't it?  Considering who she was and how she acted, even better.  Zylle Hawking was the mother figure that he needed in his life right now and also, she'll be able to teach him things that Hogwarts never would.  What she would teach him would be lessons that he would certainly need in the future, lessons that wouldn't just involve power, but his own character.  She was sure that Harry would be happy with Zylle.

            He would live.  She would make sure that he did.  And when he woke up, he would be stronger than he was before.  He would also have a new life as well.  A new life that would make him happy for once in his small existence.

            The blue-eyed lady looked up to the night sky.  "Soon…soon the Gift will be renewed and all will be right again."

***

Just a few notes here.  One, this story is NOT SLASH.  I have nothing against it, but I don't think I could write it.  Two, the first chapter is probably the only one that goes into extreme detail about the abuse.  I felt the need to explain how Harry got into this situation in the first place.  Third, as for the Lady, she's very important in the story, but her full role in what is going on and who she really isn't revealed until much later.  We get hints on what she does next chapter (all ready written out and being edited), but even that isn't all that she can do.  

As for Zylle, the Lady is right when she says that Zylle will important to Harry.  The clans and her title of "Black Dragon" will be made clear when Harry wakes up.

Thank you for all your encouragement, it really helps.  And anonymous readers can review now, too.  I didn't realize that they were being blocked.  Sorry about that.  

I will probably update every two or three days and I'll try to keep to that schedule.  As a reader, I'm also impatient for updates.

-Raven Dragonclaw

Thanks for the Reviews!

**Rachel A. Prongs**:  I'm also a fan of those kinds of fanfics.  Thanks for your support!

**KingdredSword:**  Thanks for your compliments.  I doubt I have natural talent, but thank you nonetheless.

**Destruxion:  **Thank you.  I'll try to update soon.

**BloodRedSword:  **Thank you.

**chris-warren876:  **I'm sorry if you didn't like the first chapter, but as I said before, I needed to explain what happened to Harry when he came home from Hogwarts.  I felt bad about killing off Hedwig, too.  Vernon killed her because he wanted to make sure Harry didn't get help from the outside.  Yes, he could have locked her up, but remember:  Petunia tried to help Harry and one way she could've done that was by sending Hedwig out.  He wanted to prevent that.  I apologize if that offended you.  I don't think there will be anymore of that animal cruelty again in this story.

**fullsailnate:  **Thank you and I hope you enjoy the story

**Zazz:**  Thank you for your support and I'll be sure to continue it.  

**veronik-**  Thanks and I will.


	3. On the Shores of Eternity

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.  You may recognize the name of the land of the dead from the Chronicles of Prydain, a great fantasy series.

***

Chapter Three:  On the Shores of Eternity

            Where was he?  How did he get here?

            This place couldn't possibly be real.  It gave him the feeling of the impossible always happening and the things that he himself considered normal were rare phenomenon.

            Pearl-gray mist floated eerily above the tall green grasses.  Some had flowers, but they were small and nothing spectacular.  Going forward, he found himself on the shore of an extremely ocean, at the mouth of a very wide river.  Oddly enough, it looked like it was barely flowing.  A branch of it further up meandered lazily into the east, in which he could only make out tall mountains in the obscure fog.  The water was dark, but the ribbons of bright color streaked the black in several places.  Gazing up at the sky, he beheld what the river was reflecting:  the aurora blazed across the inky heavens.

            A stray breeze blew some black strands into puzzled green eyes, distracting his attention to the sky to look west.  Swaying in the gentle breeze was a lone tree, far away from where he was, near the coast.  Its dark shape was the only visible detail he could see of it in the serene evening.  There were no other structures or trees for what appeared to be miles.  Deciding he had nothing better to do, he set out towards it.

            Bare feet crunching on coarse gray sand (where did his shoes go?  He knew he was wearing them before he woke up here.), he walked on the ocean's edge to the west.  However, he avoided the black water.  Call it instinct:  he had the distinct feeling that he shouldn't touch it.  As he neared the tree, which took less time than he thought it would, he began to see other shapes…people!

            Spying a woman that seemed to be around forty or so, he ran up to her.  Speaking shyly, he asked, "Excuse me, but do you know where we are?"

            She didn't reply.  He tried again, but he was still given no response.  Then, he noticed that the woman's brown eyes were blank and empty.  Ignoring the boy before her, she continued to make her way to the tree.  When he attempted to engage in conversation with an old man a few meters behind her, he had the same result.  The same went for the small child close to him.  Everyone was blindly walking to the tree, as if there were nothing more important in the world than to get there.

            Finally, he was at the tree.  It was situated on top of a rocky hill of stone.  There was a large basin around it, which filled with the mysterious water every time the waves crashed onto the shore.  There seemed to be several canals that led to the river around it, wooden docks with boats waiting.  As he watched, the woman and the other people he had seen marched to the one of the boats, getting in.  When she was inside, it sailed onto the river.  The same went for the countless others who were around here, each one boarding their individual vessels.  All went in the same direction:  the distant east.

            When he looked out to sea, he saw more boats, but they were filled with many people instead of one.  Wait…they weren't like the others.  These people were happy, talking gaily to the other passengers as if there were nothing wrong in the world.  Then, he noticed with disappointment, that as soon as they set foot on dry land, they too became zombies.  It was hopeless.

            That mysterious something alerted him to the tree again.  _Am I supposed to go there?_  There it was again.  Evidently, he was.  At the edge of the basin, he noticed several tall stone pillars that rose above the waves that he could easily use to jump to the hill.  Leaping to the island from stone to stone, he noticed the silver emblem of a dragon with feathered wings on stone's dark blue surface.

            It was an easy climb despite its steep appearance.  The rocks had gold veins that formed web-like patterns over them.  At the top was the same tall grass, broken only by one more dragon stone, much bigger than the others at the foot of the tree.  Standing on that seal, he looked up at what he had been journeying for.

            Large, graceful branches spread far above his head and into the color-splashed sky.  The leaves were strange: in various hues of blue and purple, lit by a strange light.  The illumination came from the flowers that grew all over it.  They were like lilies, but they weren't, and were gathered together in large clusters.  Reds, golds, silvers, and oranges were some of the few colors that there were.  The smell from it was deep, fragrant, and heavy.  The tree was clearly ancient and beautiful, but he couldn't grasp why he was drawn to it.  Nor did it help him figure out where he was at any rate.

            "Well.  I didn't expect another one like myself here."

            He turned abruptly at the smooth tenor voice.  It had the same quality as the Lady's, possessing that same mysterious lilt.  However, it belonged to a man, sitting a little ways from where he was.  He was looking at him with blatant curiosity, while the waves lapped at his feet when it came into the basin.  The man's appearance also strongly reminded him of the Lady:  dark blue eyes, messy hair an unusual mix of dark brown and black, and similar facial structure.  He seemed unthreatening, looking well in probably his twenties.  But…why was he the only one here that wasn't out of it?

            The man beckoned to him.  "Come here, don't worry.  You're the only person not in a blasted trance and I need some decent two-way conversation."  At this, he laughed:  a harsh sound in this place's oppressing silence.

            Seeing he wasn't in any danger, he sat down next to the man in the long grass by the shore.  "Who are you?"

            "Me?  My name is Tom.  Tom Riddle.  How about you?"

            "I'm-." He stopped.  _What's my name?!_  He was launched into an undeniable sense of panic.  "I," he stuttered, "I don't remember!"

            "You don't remember?"  Tom thought for a moment, and then sighed.  "Figures, I guess, considering where we are.  Something was bound to go if you ended up here."

            "What do you mean?  Where are we?"

            "This place is known as Lethe, land of oblivion and forgetfulness.  At the moment, we're sitting on the edge of Lethe, on the shores of Eternity."

            "What?!  I don't understand!  Oblivion?!"

            "It is a pretty hard concept to comprehend, so I don't blame you for your confusion.  This is the land of oblivion, right next to the huge ocean of Eternity.  Lethe is one of the dark realms, the one of the nearest to the lands of the living."

            "Is that why I can't remember…" He left his sentence hanging here, waiting for the dread answer.

            "Probably.  You were very near Annuvin, land of the dead, when you arrived.  Yes, I've been watching you.  It's kind of hard NOT to notice you.  Annuvin is the place in the east.  You are one of the few people that escaped death.  If you had landed there first, that means that the way you died was extremely violent."

            "So, why are those people going there?!"

            "Because, young one, they are dead.  In Annuvin, those souls will either stay there and be reincarnated, or they will be given their final judgment:  to go to Heaven or Hell.  Those who take the other river," Tom pointed to the mouth of the river that he found himself at before.  "They will return to the living world as ghosts.  Annuvin won't accept those who are in denial about their place in the world.  I haven't been there, being stuck in Lethe, but I know how the system works."

            "Then why are we still ourselves?  Why aren't our souls being drawn to Annuvin?"

            "Simple, we are still alive.  Our bodies, I mean.  While our bodies still live, our souls somehow ended up here.  We just have to wait to return."

            "Like a coma or something?"

            "Yes and no.  Those suffering from a coma would have been like you, somewhere wandering between Annuvin and here, asleep.  You woke up, so you should be returning quickly.  Hopefully."

            "Who decides that?"

            Tom chuckled to himself.  "We are a lot alike, young one!  Forever asking and challenging the unknown.  The sad truth is that our mortal minds will never know everything.  They were wired that way to protect us from some great epiphany that the gods themselves don't even know.  We even look something alike, but bearing in mind that we ARE distantly related, it is something to be expected."

            He frowned.  Something triggered in his head about the concept of "related".  It was a bad feeling.  It was extended to something else, not at Tom, though.  He rather liked the older man.  "We're related?"

            "As I said before, very distantly.  You'll find out in time.  But back to your first question-"

            "Yes, who decides?"

            "The Dark Lady.  In her castle of twilight in the eastern Annuvin, she judges the fates of all beings, human or otherwise.  She most likely sent you here.  Don't worry, she'll explain.  She did to me."

            "Oh.  Tom?  How did you get here?  What happened to you?  From what little I can recall, I remember being in a lot of pain.  It hurt…a lot…"

            "I can relate.  My childhood wasn't exactly pleasant."  He focused is attention to the skies.  "The orphanage I grew up in was horrible.  But that obviously isn't why I'm here.  I was kicked out of my own body."

            "What?  Like possession or something?"

            "Exactly.  Normally, it would've been easy to take care of it.  Something though, something really strong, was helping it!  While the demon was gaining control of my physical self, that something was trying to drive me insane.  It all started was I was ten or so and when I went to school, it was much worse.  It would've killed me if the Lady hadn't saved my soul in time when I was twenty-five."

            "That's why you're here.  The demon is still using your body!"

            Smiling contritely, Tom nodded.  "Right.  I should physically be in my late sixties, early seventies.  Had some kids, maybe grandkids your age.  But, no.  My soul is trapped here while my body is killing countless innocent people.  A few years ago, many of the people who came here were killed by that demon."  Glancing at him and in particular the strange lightning scar on his forehead, Tom next remarked, "Fortunately, it will end soon."

            A familiar silvery voice said out of nowhere, "Now Tom, you cannot tell him everything."  Both Tom and himself stood and turned around immediately to address her.  Standing there in the light of the Tree was the Dark Lady, even more striking in a dress of black and silver.  Speaking directly to him, she said, "Young one, it is time to go back."

            He nodded.  There was a sort of finality in her voice that he knew he shouldn't question.  But…"Lady, what about Tom?"

            The Lady smiled brilliantly at him.  "Do not worry.  He will return soon and his wait here in Lethe is shortly ending.  Tom, by the way, do wish to tell the young one anything more before he leaves?"

            "Yes, I do."  Kneeling down to his eye level, the taller man said in a serious tone, "One, don't be afraid of fear, it's what makes you human.  Two, your name doesn't matter, YOU do.  I learned that the hard way…" He drifted off here with a pained expression before continuing.  "Third, if you need any help or just someone to talk to, don't hesitate to call me.  I'll find a way.  I swear it on my soul.  Lastly, good luck."

            He nodded back at him.  He knew Tom was going to be important to him.  "I'll do that, don't worry."

            The Lady cleared her throat.  "It is time."

            "Bye, young one."

            "See you, Tom."

            He and the Lady stood in the pitch dark, though he could see her as easily as if it were noon.  She said to him, "Young one, remember my words.  If you need help, don't fear to call Tom or myself.  We will help you.  Before I leave you, I will give you a gift."

            His eyes widened.  He didn't wasn't worthy of receiving a gift from her.  "Lady, I don't deserve-"

            She hushed him with a look.  Extending her bare right arm, she made a sharp whistle.  A white glowing shape with wings flew to rest on her arm.  It was an owl, a white owl with black wingtips.  Throwing the owl into the darkness, it returned to rest on his shoulder.  When he looked at it, it returned his gaze with affection.  He found comfort in its warm weight.

            "Young one, this is Hedwig.  You knew this owl before you awoke in Lethe and she will be yours again.  She was dead, but she is alive again.  Take good care of her.  You see, not only will she be your friend, but also your spirit guardian.  If you are in any danger, Hedwig will protect you.  Her name means 'refuge in battle' for a reason."

            "Thank you for giving her to me.  I appreciate it."

            "Think nothing of it.  Now I leave you to a new world and destiny.'

            He called out, "Wait!"

            The Lady, about to disappear into the fast fading shadows, regarded him with question in those blue eyes.  Now that she fixed him with her all-knowing gaze, he lost his courage.  "Yes?  What is it?"

            Biting his lip in nervousness, he quietly asked, "Will I ever see you again?"

            She smiled at him.  "That was a given, young one.  I will always be with you.  Now, you must go back to the living world.  I wish you the best."

            Then she was gone.

            Turning to the owl on his shoulder, he said, "Well, Hedwig, it's time to go back."  The white guardian hooted in reply.

            He opened his eyes to the light of the living once more.

***

Thanks for reading this and please let me know what you think of the story so far.

When Harry arrived in Lethe, he just missed landing in Annuvin.  Tom explained that meant he was in a coma and almost died.  Tom was a sudden inspiration for me, all alone stuck in Lethe, forced to watch the people his body killed make their way to the land of the dead.  Yes, he and Harry are distantly related (VERY, VERY distantly), but how they are isn't relevant at the moment.  Tom will help Harry a lot in his new life and will play a large role in the future.

The Dark Lady will watch over the future events and over Harry.  She is the person behind the scenes, pushing pieces in their places. 

Yes, I brought back Hedwig.  I hated the fact that I had Vernon kill her off so horribly.  However, she won't contact Harry's friends.  And that is the real meaning of Hedwig's name.  I checked.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:  _

**Saruman the White:  **Thank you.

**Lady Phoenix Gryffindor: **Thanks for reviewing and I'll try to update fast.  The next update should be the 19th.

**Nabiki:  **Thanks for letting me know what you think.  We will get what happens to Dudley very soon.  I'm thinking maybe the fifth chapter or so.  I will include Draco, but it will mainly be of how he views Harry being missing and other things.  This is only of the summer.  The sequel I might put up with this if I continue would probably have a lot more of him in it.

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **Thanks for reviewing again, I appreciate it.


	4. Awakening to a New World

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Four:  Awakening to a New World

            "Has anything changed?"

            "I'm sorry, but his status is still the same."

            Zylle limply sank into the comfortable black armchair.  Dr. Diamante's office, like the rest of the hospital, was underground.  Therefore, windows were unnecessary.  The room was lit by the fireplace's blue fire, a type of fire that never went out.  Only Fire Elementals could alter flame that way.  Not only did not die out, it also did not give off heat, but cool air.  Many of the homes in Grey Tower Town used blue flame rather than air conditioning in the hot summer months.  The opulent teal blue and sea green carpet contrasted greatly with the stone walls.  A lot of pictures, mostly of the doctor's family, hung on them along with various degrees and certificates.  Low cabinets held various medical tomes and potions texts.  All in all, it lacked the clinical feel of a doctor's office.  That wasn't unusual in Grey Tower Sanctuary Hospital:  those who worked here did everything in their power to make their patients relaxed.  The antique clock on the desk told them it was fifteen minutes after midnight, July 31st.  Both of them were exhausted from work, but neither could sleep.  The insomnia was caused by concern for a particular patient currently in the hospital.

            The doctor, looking so much older than her but actually only a few years senior, raked long fingers through fading blond hair.  "What I don't understand is why you're so interested in this child.  You overwork yourself, that's for sure, and you need rest.  Why do you keep coming, then?"

            This puzzled the normally cynical woman as well.  Why DID she care?  It wasn't like the boy was related or familiar to her in any way.  She just…felt like she _had_ to be there.  "I don't know, Anastasius.  I-I really don't know."

            Her old friend smiled at her from across his desk.  "Biological clock ticking, Zyllie?"

            She glared at him.  "Not funny, _Annie_."

            His teasing grin got bigger.  "Oh, I know.  Even though I can go much farther with this, I'll stop here.  You're the Black Dragon, first leader of the Arashi-Tenku Dragon clan while I am the lowly Blue Falcon of the Kiri-Kaminari Falcon clan.  I'd be committing suicide."

            "All of this aside how is he?"

            "You got him in just in time, any later and he'd be dead."

            She shuddered at the memory of finding him and at the thought of what could have happened if she hadn't.  _For once I'm glad I was late from work._  "So, he's alright?"

            "We're thankful that our medications and potions are so effective on him.  So effective, it's downright miraculous.  Most of the cuts, bones, and internal injuries have healed.  If you look at him now, you would probably only note a few bad bruises here and there.  Did you know he wore glasses?  Well, his eyes actually have improved a bit, but he'll still need them."

            "That's amazing!  But what I'm concerned about is this incredible healing.  He is just a normal boy, right?"

            "We did a few tests because this intrigued us as well.  He's a wizard, a powerful one.  But we think he also has some strong elemental ability.  We can't test him for potential since he's in a coma, though."

            "How long do you think that will last?"

            "Depends.  Comas are tricky.  He _did_ have severe head trauma, so that might cause some problems.  Other than that, now he just needs to be treated for a broken arm, bruising, and malnutrition.  Rest assured, our mystery boy will pull through."

            She felt instant relief.  _Great, he'll be okay!_  "Thank the winds, that's good.  Anastasius, I still haven't thanked you for all this."

            Anastasius dismissed this with a wave of his hand.  "No matter, I know sort of how you feel:  like a parent.  I would know. I have four of my own.  No, let me finish," he said after seeing her open her mouth to object.  "You reacted like any red-blooded mother would.  Some of the nurses have taken to calling him 'Zylle's son', because you check up on him so much."

            This was true.  Zylle had come to the Sanctuary every day to check on the young comatose patient that she brought in.  She had caught some of the nurses giggling at her behavior, but had dismissed it.  The boy was more important.  Besides, she wasn't the type to care about stupid gossip.

            Out of nowhere, a blond nurse rushed into the office.  She probably damaged the handsome mahogany door due to her violent entry.  "Doctor!  He's awake!  Zylle's son is awake!"

            Giving the blonde a meaningful glance, the amused doctor remarked pointedly, "Really?  I wasn't aware that she even _had_ a son, Betty."

            Betty went crimson when she noticed the aforementioned woman sitting the chair, regarding her imperiously.  "Oh!  I'm so sorry, Ms. Hawking!  It's-It was an office joke!  Please don't be offended!"

            Sighing, she said, "Think nothing of it, Betty.  Now, you say that he's awake?"

            "Yes!  Unbelievably, he's been up since midnight.  Scared Anderson out of his wits a few minutes ago."

            Anastasius stood up from his desk.  "Well, let's go see him.  Zylle?  I'm assuming that you are coming?"

            Getting up from her chair, she replied sarcastically, "No, I'm going home.  Of course, I'm coming!"

            He looked sharply when he heard the door open.  He had been awake since midnight (he had looked at the clock when she woke up) and had been extremely bored until that doctor walked in.  When the man saw him sitting up and observing him quietly, he went mad.  He ran out screaming for a nurse.  What a doctor, but it was pretty funny when you saw his face.  He wished he had camera.

            12:20, and according to the calendar on the wall, July 31st.  It had taken him awhile to find his glasses, but with Hedwig's help he was able to locate them.  With them on, he saw that he was obviously in an underground since the room had stone walls and cool temperatures.  The cold seemed to be coming from the flames in the wall lamps.  He shivered:  the thin hospital gown he found himself wearing was obviously wasn't made to insulate heat.  He found that he couldn't move from the bed because a tube was injected into his wrist.  That tube connected him to an IV pole near him.  Hedwig was perched there, watching him worriedly.  However, he didn't feel like moving.  It was a very comfy bed.

            A doctor with faded blond hair walked in, evidently happy and carrying a clipboard.  A dark-haired woman in a dark blue business suit followed inside after him, appearing extremely apprehensive.  By just looking at her, he could tell she wasn't normally like that.  Nevertheless, he felt a lot more assured now that she was here.  Hmm…was she his mother?  It would explain his security around her and why she was concerned about him.  The doctor addressed him first, while the woman stood awkwardly in the background.  "Hello, young man!  I see that you're finally up!  So, how are you feeling?"

            He considered this for a moment.  "Okay, I guess.  My head kinda hurts and I feel sorta stiff, but that's about it."

            Rapidly scribbling, the doctor nodded.  "Understandable, you have been in a coma for three days."  So Tom was right, his body WAS in a coma while he was in Lethe.  "Now young man, I need to ask you some questions."  _Uh oh.  How to explain this…_ "First off, what is your name?"

            Glancing down at his bed's pristine white sheets, he said, "I don't know.  I-I don't remember…"

            The doctor exchanged a meaningful look with the woman.  "Nothing?  At all?"

            Not that he thought about it…"Well…I can recall stuff from school and…spells?  Why would I know _spells_?"  Blast it!  He should've asked the Lady more questions before he woke up.  Meeting the doctor's intense brown gaze, he asked, "Do you know?  Who I am, I mean.  And is she-," He pointed at the silent woman.  "-my mum?"

            At this, the doctor burst out laughing while the woman's face turned beet red.  The doctor continued to chuckle through his next words.  "No, I'm sorry, I don't know who you are.  That isn't funny, but…well, you asked if she-she was your mother…" He broke down into hysterics.

            The woman scowled at the hapless healer before giving him her attention.  "No, I'm not your mother, but I'm the one who found you and brought you her.  Shut it, **Annie**_._"

            The doctor (_Annie?  His name was Annie?  What was **his** mother thinking?_) stopped laughing long enough to grimace back at her.  "Sorry, but it's an office joke…a real funny one…don't call me that."

            "You asked for it."

            "My boy, this lady is Zylle Hawking while I am the brilliant Dr. Anastasius Diamante."

            He smiled.  "Oh, I get it now.  Annie is your nickname."

            Dr. Diamante turned back to Zylle.  "I hate you."  She just smirked and shrugged blue fabric encased shoulders.  "Okay, you remember things you've learned.  What about places?  People?"

            Frantically, he searched his mind for something he could remember.  _There has to be something!  I can't have lost everything in Lethe!_  Then it hit him.  An image.  "A dog.  A big, black dog.  That's it."

            "Anything more recent?"

            "Pain," he stuttered.  He didn't want to remember _that._  "A lot of pain."

            "Hmm," murmured the doctor neutrally.  Zylle looked at him with pity in her eyes.  Then she noticed his guardian, now perched on the bed's metal railing.  "How did that owl get in?"

            Dr. Diamante sharply looked up from his clipboard.  "Owl?  What are you talking about?  An owl can't get in-oh.  How DID it get in?"

            Zylle approached the bed, walking with a fluid grace towards him and the snowy owl.  She held her hand out to the animal, which nuzzled it affectionately.  "It seems friendly enough.'  Smiling warmly at him as she petted the bird, she asked him, "Friend of yours?"

            He returned her smile with one of his own.  It felt good to smile.  Somehow, he understood that he was often unhappy.  At least he knew he could trust her:  Hedwig would have reacted badly to her if she weren't.  "Yeah, her name's Hedwig."

            "Lovely name for a lovely bird."

            The doctor chortled again.  He seemed like the kind of guy who actually enjoyed life and was altogether a very jolly person.  "Figures you and the bird would get along.  You are a wind elemental."

            She stuck her tongue out at him in a childish manner.  "Well, you do like to go to the aquarium, Mr. water elemental."

            "Touché, Zylle.  Touché."

            "Umm…what's an elemental?  This interested him.  Logically, an elemental could control an element.  But he learned in…some class somewhere, that no one could do that.  It was like focused magic without a wand.  Impossible.  _Speaking of my wand, where is it?  Wait, this is summer.  No magic anyway._

            The two adults suddenly seemed uncomfortable.  "We might explain to you what we mean later.  You really don't need to know now," Zylle said.  The doctor tersely nodded.  So, they were trustworthy, but they didn't want him to know what they were.  Obviously, Dr. Diamante and Zylle weren't a wizard or witch respectively, but something else.  _What, though?_  He hadn't noticed Dr. Diamante was speaking again.  "-you'll probably be in here for a week.  However, we want to do some…additional testing to make sure you're okay.  Also, we need to find your guardians and see if they are."  The doctor struggled for a word that wouldn't sound offensive, as he didn't know the entire situation at hand.  "-suitable for looking after you.  If not, it's all in the hands of the state."  Zylle seemed upset at this, but the doctor prattled on.  "Now, you get some rest."  The doctor nodded his graying head as a parting while Zylle had given him a more verbal one ("Good luck and please get better").

            Lying back into fluffy pillows, he said sleepily to his faithful owl, "Well Hedwig, the Lady was right.  It is a new world now."  Her hoot of agreement as the last thing that he heard before he dropped off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

***

Sorry for the delay, but FF.Net was messing up here.  Thanks to all everyone who is reading this.  Please let me now what you think.  Personally, I'm surprised I have as many reviews as I have now.  I didn't think my first fic would turn out to good.

Harry's point of view is obviously used in the second half of this chapter.  It was kind of hard to write, since I couldn't be very specific.  How specific can one be if you don't even know who you are?  The next chapter, hopefully up by the 21st, will not be in Harry or Zylle's point of views, but someone else's.  This someone else is reflecting on Harry and it takes place while Harry is in his coma, so don't get confused.  Thanks for all your support.

I might ask reviewers if they wish to submit one character into the story, but I'll leave that until later.  I'm not sure if I want to do that and the basics of Harry's new life have not been explained yet, so I'm kind of skeptical about this.  I'll have to see what happens.

The next update should be up around the 22nd.  But it's already written.  I'm just editing and typing it up now.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**Rachel A. Prongs:**  Thanks for being such a consistent reviewer of this.  I'll definitely continue, even though I wasn't too confident to begin this story to begin with.  Tom is trapped, but he'll eventually get out…eventually.  I'm sure that there are some more fics out there with Tom being innocent; you just have to look for them.

**PhoenixPadfoot89:  **Thank you for reviewing and I hope you continue reading this.


	5. Late Regrets and a New Chance

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Five:  Late Regrets and a New Chance

            Dudley Dursley stared at his ceiling in the very early morning hours of July 30th in his spacious bedroom on number 4, Privet Drive.  Hundreds of toys and gadgets surrounded him, but barely looked at them anymore.  They just reminded him of how selfish he had been during his short life.  It was too bad he couldn't leave his bed except for a few brief exercises.  Those said exercises were shorter than they should be because his mother.  She didn't want him to overexert himself.

            He wasn't going to delude himself.  The only person at fault for this position was himself and he was paying the price.  True, his mother and father never discouraged what he did, but he could have said no.  They just wanted to make him happy.  Worse, he wasn't even grateful for all they had done for him over the years.  No, he just reached and wanted more.  And when he did get what he wanted, he never appreciated.  He just had it and that was that.

            _I wonder how Harry's doing?_  He made a face.  Dudley doubted that his cousin was doing well.  When they came home from the hospital, his father was adamant that his scrawny cousin was the cause of this dilemma.  If anything, Harry tried to help him in a way:  before, he always had to run after the faster boy and he rarely caught him.  No matter how hard he tried to persuade his father otherwise, Harry was still to blame.  Vernon's large face turned purple with rage after he had asked that Harry receive all his old stuff as a last request.  The huge man started bellowing of 'that nonsense', claiming the wizard had put him under a spell.  He had the distinct feeling that Harry didn't fare too well from that first encounter.

            His mother was growing increasingly worried about this as well.  She tried to get into the room, but then his father started standing sentinel at the door of the smallest bedroom, preventing her from giving him food or medical attention.  It was Petunia's fear that Harry was going to die that kept her looking for a way to help his cousin.  Privately, she had told him that had she spent most of the day looking through phonebooks for the "Weasley" family instead of searching for a job like she told Vernon.  She even started keeping an ear out for the whereabouts of Sirius Black, Harry's convict godfather.  "He's still my sister's son!  I can't leave him to this!  No, I just can't," she sobbed to him a few days ago while Vernon was out.  He couldn't blame her.  Harry was left as her responsibility, the only living legacy of her dead sister.  It would be inhumane to continue to let him be "punished" for something he had no part of.

            Out of all the things he felt bad about now, how he had treated his cousin Harry Potter was definitely ranked top on the list.  All he had done to him was taunt him, beat him up, and make sure that absolutely no one befriended him.  Then he went to that magic school (_Hogwarts?_) and had plenty of friends.  Imagine his shock when he heard that his thin, weak little cousin was famous!  He had those red-haired friends who got him out of the house every summer, who worried if he didn't write back or anything.  All he had were his "faithful gang" that abandoned him as soon as they found out he was poor.  Some friends.  Harry was really the only person who challenged him to treat him as an equal.  They could've been friends.  He was sure that if that had been the case, Harry would've stuck by him.

            That wasn't what happened though.  There was no point in wishing for things that now can never be.

            His father passing by his bedroom door in the hallway jolted him out of his musings.  Judging from his attire, he was going out.  What did he need to do at three in the morning?!  He heard him mutter, "Eyes…go away…eyes…" Eyes?  His father kept on mumbling about eyes lately.  He also mentioned them with Harry, saying he brought them with his 'hocus-pocus'.  

            Petunia was visibly on edge.  According to her, Harry had suddenly disappeared about two days ago.  Since then, Vernon couldn't sleep and always came home looking like a deer caught in headlights.  He had confessed to her that he was being hunted and wherever he went, **they** followed him.  She was actually considering taking his father to an institution to be tested, but she wasn't sure how to do this without getting hurt in some way.  _Wherever you are Harry, I hope you're okay._  Petunia had said that the owls might come tomorrow because it was Harry's birthday.  She had a note to send if they did, explaining what was going on.  Hopefully, they could get to him, wherever he was.

            Dudley chuckled to himself.  If things were normal, he would not even consider thinking to himself these sorts of things.  Dying must have something to do with it.  To no one in particular, he said aloud into the silence of his room, "Harry, sorry for everything.  Hope you forgive me."  

            For the second time this night, he was startled.  A mysterious, otherworldly voice had suddenly spoken to him.  "Do you really mean what you say?"  His mind was racing wildly.  _Was it Harry?  No.  That voice was definitely female.  I must be dreaming or hallucinating or something.'_  His doubts that this was one hell of a dream were slashed when the voice reiterated its query.  _Who cares anymore?  Dad's going nuts, Mum's going to have a nervous breakdown soon, and I'm dying.  I might as well join the club.  _"Yes, I do."

            "Then how would you like a second chance?"  The darkest shadows of his room ran like water to one spot near the side of his bed, merging together.  In a matter of moments, Dudley could easily make out the dark shape of a woman, silhouetted by a faint silver aura.  Her eyes shown out and pierced his soul:  gold and silver specks in midnight blue.  He would bow to her if he could, for she was evidently a figure of timeless power.  He didn't need magic or anyone to tell him that.  It was instinct.  He somehow knew this woman and was aware that to her, he was as dispensable as the soda cans he used to drink so much of.  He should be honored that she chose to speak with him.  He choked out, "I would love to have one if I could."

            She gazed directly into his eyes for what to him seemed like forever.  It could have easily have been only a few minutes.  Dudley didn't care though, not while she judged him as someone worthy of her notice.  Subsequently she said, "Then Dudley Dursley, because you truly desire a second chance to redeem yourself, you will get one."  Dudley felt the urge to dance for pure joy.  "However," she continued.  "There are prices to pay."

            He didn't mind.  He would do anything.  Anything so that he could live a productive life as a decent, respectable human being.  He waited with bated breath for her next words.

            "This time, you must be a good person.  Have an open mind and heart.  Be kind, polite, and friendly to everyone.  Well, not everyone.  If you do not consider them as honest people worth knowing, then you don't have to be.  And most of all, do not become the kind of man your father is."  Dudley smiled, seeing his chance.  The woman was telling him that his tasks for his redemption were the very things he was planning to do anyway.  "I accept the terms," he replied.

            "Go to sleep, Dudley and everything will be okay.  One last thing, your cousin is alright, do not worry, I will make sure he is safe from harm…"

            Whatever she said next Dudley did not hear, for he fell into a deep healing sleep.

            "I don't believe it!  It's a medical miracle!  Your arteries have been almost completely unclogged!"  The doctor stood in the sterile, white examining room with his mouth wide open in shock after looking over the new test results taken that morning.  It had only been a few hours since _she_ had come.  "Your heart rate is now on par with normal teenagers your age!"

            Petunia, the only one with him since Vernon had left during the night, shakily asked, "Will he live then?"

            "Surely, madam!  He is now in no danger whatsoever, but he is severely overweight."

            Dudley broke in with a smile.  "Don't worry, doctor, I'm planning to start a strict exercise program."  Yes, he did intend to get in shape.  This was his second chance at life and he was going to make damn sure to live it to the fullest.  He was going to exercise, learn what he had to, get a job to support the family, and be an all-round nice guy.  He will never forget the day of July 30th, when he received this blessing.  He owed everything to the woman he called the 'Shadow Goddess' and indirectly, Harry.

            Dudley was running in the nearby park around seven in the evening that same day.  He found a promising job in a construction company that he was excited to start at in a few days.  It was amazing that he found one in the first place.  No doubt it had something to do with the Shadow Goddess.  Now he needed to undo fifteen years of damage to his body.  It was hard, but Dudley found it oddly satisfying to push himself to his limits.  He'll keep his promises; he swore it on his healed heart.  And he'd treat Harry like a brother if they ever met again.

            Too caught up in his thoughts, he accidentally ran into someone.  Both of them hit the sidewalk hard.  Slightly dazed, he lifted himself off the ground.  Then he saw the other person hadn't gotten up yet.  Remembering his manners, he helped them up and apologized.  "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

            He then noticed that the person was a girl, about his own age.  She wasn't dazzling, but she was nice-looking.  She possessed a plump figure, but Dudley decided that she looked nice anyway.  The girl smiled at him, braces metallically glinting in the fading light.  "It's my fault too, you know.  Don't worry about it.  Say, I haven't seen you around here.  Do run often?"

            Dudley laughed good-naturedly.  "Does it _look_ like I do?  No, I'm just starting.  I'd never thought I'd say it, but it's fun."

            She nodded.  "I know, it is.  I started because I hated all those girls in my class making fun of me."

            "They must be real losers.  You seem to be nice to me, so it shouldn't matter."

            A faint line of pink tinged the girl's cheeks.  "Thanks, I guess.  Oh, I never introduced myself.  I'm Alyce.  Alyce Whitbaker.  Want to run together?  I'd like the company."

            "Sure.  By the way, I'm Dudley Dursley…"

***

Sorry for the delay.  Some things had come up that I had to deal with.  Everything's okay though.  I'll probably try to get back on schedule.  Thanks for reading and please don't hesitate to review.  To all who reviewed this already, thank you.  You've made this first time, aspiring author a very happy person.

This chapter was about how Dudley viewed what happened to Harry and how he got a second chance at life, thanks to the Dark Lady.  The next chapter should be up by the 25th.  There will get a glance into the mind of a now very unstable person.  I warn you that it will be a very short one.  The chapter after, hopefully up by the 27th (tentative), that will catch up on July 31st.  Someone will be very upset on that special day…and it's not Harry.

I'm still playing around with the character including thing.  Let me know if I should or not and well, majority rules.  If I do, I'll probably ask after the eighth/ninth chapter.  People would have a general idea of what is going on then if all goes well.  

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**PhoenixPadfoot89:**  Thanks for your encouragement.

**aogeck:  **Thank you.

**Gold Silk:**  Thanks for reading!  As for your question, the element is generally known as Earth here.  Harry will probably meet some of those elementals soon in the hospital.

**Rachel A. Prongs:**  You're right when you say that it was a logical thing for Harry to think that.  He felt secure around Zylle and they do sort of share some features.  Besides, he had nothing to compare the feeling to, as he never had a mother figure in his life, excepting Molly Weasley.


	6. An Interlude of Insanity

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Six:  An Interlude of Insanity

            He had to run.  Run away.  But to where?  Where could he possibly go to escape?  They seemed to follow him everywhere, no matter where he was.  Those damn blue eyes…

            Vernon Dursley was hurtling down the usually serene streets of Little Whinging in the early morning hours of July 30th in his large town car.  Normally, he would be more careful of his driving, but this was an extreme case in his opinion.  He needed to at least get away for a little bit.  And attempt to escape the Blue Eyes.

            So many things had happened that year.  It went far too fast and escalated into his own personal hell on Earth.  Dudley getting sick:  how dare that doctor even SUGGEST that it was his fault for letting him get like this?!  Dudley just needed a lot of energy and therefore, a lot of food!  Then, soon afterward he lost his job.  He should've known better than to trust that Gallagher fellow.  As soon as he gave them the information they had needed, they had immediately turned on him.  In the end, he was just left with the crumbling remains of the company he helped to destroy.  The once proud Vernon Dursley was now a ruined man.

            _It was entirely the freak's fault.  It had to be!_  Wizards and their magic always caused trouble in his opinion.  That was the main reason he didn't allow his sister-in-law and her no-good husband come to their wedding, or to visit them in anyway.  Heaven forbid what they could've done.

            If things had gone his way, the boy would have been shipped to an orphanage.  Hopefully that said orphanage was a horrible one.  Petunia, though, insisted they keep him.  Him, the fool that he was, let her do as she wished.  He could not dissuade her, no matter how many time he told her that the kid would be as much as an oddity as his parents.

            As soon as the letter from **that** school arrived at his home did everything go awry.  Only a few weeks after the first one was sent, he found himself driving his son to a special clinic to have the pig's tail removed from his son's bottom.  That was embarrassing.  He was thankful that no one from work heard of that incident.  Everyone did, however, hear about what happened with the Mason family.  Grunnings lost a huge deal because of that.  When they learned how they had missed their chance, he was the target of anger, resentment, and heavy ridicule.  And here the freak was saying that it was some kind of elf that did it.  The boy plainly did it to spite him!  Finally, when he had that boy locked up, those redheads took him away in their flying car.  Wonderful.

            He swerved sharply around a corner, causing some of the local dogs to bark in alarm.  _And what he did to Marge two years ago!_  First, the boy blackmails him and then, when everything appeared to be going fine, he blew her up like a balloon!  Those "Ministry" wizards took care of it, but he hated them too.  _They all were freaks!_  The neighbors had asked a lot of questions about the shouting that had gone on that night.  Among them were:  who were those strangely dressed men at your home?  Was that your nephew who burst out of the house dragging a trunk?  Petunia was mortified at all the gossip.  Over time, it died down, but it was the principle of the thing.  At the end of that year, he started going on about his godfather, who happened to be a mass murderer.  _If only that filthy low-life could take the kid and go, I'd be happy._  It was through this that the boy threatened to do whatever he pleased.  Subsequently, the redheaded family was back.  _Was the name 'Weasel' or something?_  They destroyed his living room, enlarged his son's tongue, and then had the gall to admonish them for not saying farewell to that little troublemaker?  Who did they think they were?  _Oh.  Right.  Of course they would do that:  they are all insane freaks._

            The boy came home differently this year.  All in all, he seemed rather dead and apathetic.  The freak stressed some concern over Dudley's condition, but returned to his indifferent stance once Vernon had started to blame him for all that had happened.  The spark of rebellion that the freak had possessed had apparently gone out.  Petunia was worried about this change in behavior, but Vernon wasn't.  He just wanted his nephew to suffer, and suffer a lot.  The boy didn't even scream or cry out when he beat him.  It seemed as if he had given up on everything.  The only time that the boy showed emotion was when he killed that ruddy owl.  He went berserk trying to save that blasted animal.  When he saw it finally dead, that was when he began to sink more into lifelessness and depression.  

            This didn't concern Vernon.  His nephew had never held a place in his heart, so he really didn't care.

            What he was concerned about was how his nephew summoned the Eyes to haunt him.  It was soon after the boy had conjured up that maelstrom that he began to see them.  The boy had brought them on him.  The freak had cursed him even more with his strange abnormality.

            Vernon parked the car outside a large deserted field and stepped out.  Tall grass and weeds swayed in an unnatural wind.  _No…NO, NOT AGAIN!_

Everywhere he saw them.  Those two orbs stalked him wherever he was.  A shadow woman with deep blue eyes, flecked with other colors inside them.  Vernon, though, didn't focus on those specks; he was always too busy trying to get away.  Those eyes screamed their hatred and contempt at him.  He knew that she had something to do with the boy:  her eyes had that same fathomless depth to them, even if the color and shape were different.  Her eyes also had that exact judging quality that made him cringe in fear.  He could handle the boy's; he could always punish him for giving that kind of look.  The owner of **that **pair, though, was something else.  He could attack her, but he knew that he would die on his first step towards her if he even dared to.

                  He was done for.  Once the brat's friends find out he had disappeared, they would murder him for sure.  He had heard of this Dumbledore guy.  He was believed to be the greatest of all those freaks, much more powerful than the lot of them.  However, he was much more afraid of one person, a person already known for killing:  the man known as Sirius Black.  He muttered under his breath, staring directly at the phantom woman, "I'm dead."

                  The woman blinked those eyes at him from across the field.  He assumed that she was concurring with him.

                  Vernon Dursley fell on his back and laughed.

***

Thanks for all who are reading this.  I thought I lost this because my notebook was falling to pieces.  But mercifully, I have a new one.  The next chapter is going to be pretty long, so the 27th is still a tentative next update.  It's Harry's birthday and conflict is a given to happen. 

It was kind of hard to write this.  As you can tell, Vernon has finally hit the deep end and the Dark Lady isn't helping his situation all that much.  She obviously dislikes him with a fervor for what he has done and knows that it's much too late for him to repent.  She did see the potential in Dudley, therefore helped him.  Seeing that Dudley was indeed grateful, she helped him out even more.  Woe betide Vernon when he makes the journey into Annuvin.

I just set up an account on FictionPress.Com.  I already put up a story called Shadow Legends under the pen name 'Arashi Raven'.  It's also in England, but is just about a normal kid…well, he appears to be one anyway.  It's been in another of my notebooks for a while now and what few people that have seen it have said it's pretty good.  Please look at it and review; it's my first stab at publishing original fiction. 

As I said before, thank you for reading this.  Personally, I didn't think it would get that many readers.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**DaBear: ** I'm glad to know that you're interested.

**WolfMoon:  **Thanks for reading, reviewing, and understanding that I'm far from perfect.  The background info will be revealed more and more as Harry assimilates into his new life.  Some things will probably explained in the eighth or ninth chapter.  Yes, this chapter was about Vernon and his thoughts I guess are interesting, in a way.  Harry won't be back at Hogwarts for a while, due to "circumstances", though people will be all over looking for him.  Malfoy will have a role to play…much later and I don't think Snape will ever like Harry, so you can count on that.  I guess you're in a much different time zone than this New Yorker since yesterday was the 25th for you.  I hope you liked this.

**PhoenixPadfoot89:**  Harry will be happy that Dudley is nice now, but their reunion won't come until a while later.  Yes, they will meet later on, but neither will recognize the other.

**Gold Silk:**  Yes, Dudley can really be human, as well as Petunia.  Vernon, as you can see, is a far different story.

**Rachel A. Prongs:**  You were right about Vernon and what he has deteriorated into isn't pretty at all.  We will see more of Dudley, as well as Alyce, in later chapters.  Who knows, maybe I could do a spin-off of this focusing on Dudley.  Who knows?  Thanks for being such a loyal reader of this.


	7. Slashed Hopes and Shattered Dreams

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, the clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

Note:  There are a lot Order of the Phoenix spoilers here, mostly about the house and Sirius' family.

***

Chapter Seven:  Slashed Hopes and Shattered Dreams

            The crisp morning air was cut by a large shout of happiness.  Soon after, an annoyed voice belonging to whom many described as a 'greasy-haired git' yelled back some choice comments at the former.  It was obvious by the way that the two spoke to each other that they didn't get along.

            This was the manner in which the sleeping residents of 12 Grimmauld Place awoke and was how many of those actually awake got their first laugh of the day.  Today, July 31st, was a special day.  To be more exact, July 31st would have to be called a tremendously special day.  A specific, very significant article had appeared in the Daily Prophet just a few days ago that radically changed the life of a very important person.

Captured Death Eaters Free Black 

_Despite Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge's allegations that the Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not returned, a group of five Death Eaters (supporters of You-Know-Who) have been captured by high-ranked Aurors in the town of Great Whinging.  After being interrogated using Veritaserum, these dark wizards claimed to be under "orders" to attack the home of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.  Minister Fudge claims this incident to be a hoax set up by Albus Dumbledore.  Accusations aside, however, the identity of one of the apprehended is hard to dismiss._

_Peter Pettigrew, a person believed to have been killed about fourteen years ago, is actually alive and well, if you overlook now possessing a magical silver hand.  Further questioning revealed that Pettigrew was really a spy for the Dark Lord and after a confrontation in the middle of a busy street, went into hiding.  He will be given the Dementor's Kiss in three days for the combined murders of James and Lily Potter, as well as the deaths of twelve muggles:  all of which he had framed on former friend Sirius Black.  Black will be given a full pardon and compensation for his unjust imprisonment.  In a statement to the Daily Prophet, Black commented on his new freedom.  "I'm happy that I'm finally proven innocent and can walk down the street a free man."  Black has also told the Prophet that he plans to retake his position as an Auror and that he will claim custody of his godson Harry Potter, as per the wishes of the late Potters._

            Albus Dumbledore laughed heartily, eyes twinkling madly, when he saw the sour expression on the face of Severus Snape.  "Come now, Severus!  The man has had little to celebrate for in a long time."

            The potions master continued to glower.  "Well, Headmaster, I'm sure that Black can 'celebrate' a little later in the day.  Also, preferably, NOT IN MY EAR!"

            The oft-called mad headmaster of Hogwarts continued to chuckle while the mood of Severus Snape continued to worsen.  As any attending Hogwarts student would know, Snape in a bad mood is never a good thing.  One person in the large crumbling house was far too elated to care though, not even bothering to shut up the portrait of his ill-tempered mother.

            The said extremely happy man, to most known as Sirius Black, skipped into the dusty and molding dining room.  He had a good reason to be in such a good mood:  he was proven innocent after about fourteen years of being falsely convicted as a murderer.  Today, he would finally be able to claim custody of Harry Potter, his godson.  This day was something he had been dreaming about for a long time.  He was going to make today the best birthday that the aforementioned young man had and nothing, positively nothing, was going to ruin it.

            Seeing a cheerful person does absolutely nothing to improve a person's bad mood:  it makes it worse.  Snape was no exception to this universal law of human nature.  Within moments, he was chasing the other man around, screaming the various threats he will inflict if Sirius didn't stop his "prancing".  Sirius wasn't listening.  Deftly avoiding Snape, he continued to "prance" with a giant smile plastered on his face.  The headmaster wasn't any help to the situation.  Dumbledore was currently rolling on the floor in his mirth:  apparently he found the scene very amusing.

            The only other occupant of the room that could possibly stop Sirius' antics smiled weakly while leaning heavily on the elbows propped on the tabletop.  While his best friend was looking pretty well (the prospect of taking care of Harry had certainly helped), Remus Lupin wasn't doing too well.  It was still a few days after the last full moon and the werewolf needed to recover.  But seeing his friend, so happy after years of sadness and depression, did him some good.

            Sirius Black did indeed look better.  He wanted to give Harry a surprise, so he definitely made himself appear less like a convict.  Now he resembled the happy man he used to be, but there was still a ghost of Azkaban shadowing his blue eyes.  He had his black hair, cut short but still long, in a ponytail and did not look emaciated like before.  Obviously, he was now in great health:  both physically and mentally.

            12 Grimmauld Place was the one place other than Azkaban that Sirius did not want to return to.  He had to be forced to stay there and though he still hated it, he was sure that he wouldn't mind once Harry moved in.  Considering how much he disliked his family, it was no surprise that he had to be practically dragged to the detested house.  They almost disowned him when they found out he was Sorted into Gryffindor.  The decision of the Sorting Hat had made the already strained relation between him and his kinsmen even worse.  In their eyes, only Slytherin would do.  Ravenclaw would be tolerable, but never Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.  This probably was because the "blood traitors" of the Black family invariably came from these Houses.  Actually these "traitors" were the most decent people the family produced.  Despite the fact that he went against everything the family believed in, he did get the vast fortune and ancestral home that came with the name.  He didn't want it, but it came with the territory of being the last Black.  The place was ideal, though, for the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, the resistance against Voldemort.

            "Honestly, Sirius!  Must you make so much noise?  You woke everyone up!"  This came from the forty or so matron of the Weasley family as she doled out generous helpings of sausage to the children's plates.  Fred and George, her twin boys, smiled at the former Marauder:  he had already given them plenty of ideas for pranks.  Not that their mother was supposed to know, of course.  Molly Weasley was an intimidating sight when mad.  Molly straightened to her full height and with arms crossed in an obviously angry manner, she scolded, "They're still young and need their rest!"

            Ron, her youngest son, said through a mouthful of sausage, "C'mon, lay off, Mum!  Harry is coming today!"

            "Well, yes, you do have a point…"

            The only Weasley daughter piped up, "Harry's coming?"  As the attention of the table turned to her, she immediately blushed.  The fact that she inherited the trademark Weasley red hair made it worse.  Ginny turned bashful eyes to her toast and scrambled eggs.

            Hermione Granger, a close friend of the family's, smiled across the table at her best friend's younger sister.  The girl's obvious crush on the famous Harry Potter had certainly endured.  "Yes, he is.  Knowing him, he'll be pretty surprised at the party we've set up for him."

            Rolling his eyes, Ron said, "Of course, he will!  I bet he never got a single acknowledgement, much less a present, from those muggles!"

            The table went silent at the statement.  Then Sirius stood up, startling everyone.  "I'd better be going.  Gotta pick up the birthday boy."

            "There will be no need, Sirius," Dumbledore said.

            "What?"

            "I've already sent someone.  As you can see, he has already left."

            "No!  You can't do this to me!"  Sirius began to pace, a sure sign that he was going to begin a rant.  Fred, George, and Ron started to snicker while Hermione just sighed in resignation.  "You don't know what I had planned!  I was to have this huge entrance, all dark and ominous looking.  Then, Vernon and Petunia were going to be green cows, with purple spots no less!  I was going to chase his fat cousin screaming nonsense words!  You've ruined my plan!  I was going to _terrorize_ those muggles!"

            "Exactly.  That is why I sent Severus."

            "You sent SNIVELLUS?!"

            Severus Snape was certainly a new sight on the painfully normal boulevard known as Privet Drive.  He had to be feeling hot; the sun was scorching that day.  Many of the lawns were starting to yellow due to the need to conserve water.  It didn't help that his bad mood, already aggravated by Black to very dangerous levels, had exacerbated even further.  _I'm just going to grab Potter, take him to Black, and prevent myself from killing both of them._  Old habits die hard, Death Eater habits of killing and torture included.

            _Number four, right…here?  Is this right?_  This house couldn't be the home of the renowned Boy-Who-Lived.  Wilted flowers dried in the heat, while the grass was already burnt brown.  The fence was in disrepair, as was the walk, and dirty windows reflected back the glaring rays of the morning sun.  It seemed extremely unlikely that the arrogant Potter lived here.  The house stuck out on this prim and disturbingly proper street like a sore thumb.  Nevertheless, the headmaster had given him this address.  Albus Dumbledore was rarely, if ever, wrong.

            Snape pressed the doorbell button with one long pale finger.  He was sure that people were inside.  Before he rang the bell, he had heard a loud man's voice.  Correction:  it was more or a roar.  Now, though, everything was silent.  He rang the bell several more times and was about to use the **Alohomora **charm, when it suddenly swung open, almost hitting him in the face.  He was about to yell a scathing remark at Potter, but shut his mouth when he saw who was standing there.

            This boy was a far cry from Potter.  Actually he was the very physical anti-thesis of the son of his old school enemy.  He was far, FAR larger than his nearly skeletal student.  The boy's blue eyes had widened when he saw the robed sinister man before him.  Both of them were startled out of their momentary stupor when that loud voice from before bellowed, "Son?!  Is it one of them?!"

            Snape noticed the tremor that was inflected on the word "them".  _Could he mean wizards?  It sounds as if whoever he is, mostly like the uncle, he is afraid of magic._  He was distracted when the boy in front of him yelled back, "No, dad!  It's just a salesman!"  A low grunt responded to this outburst.

            Now Snape was angry and really, REALLY, wanted an explanation of **that**.  _I was just called a salesman by a muggle! Now, I'm really going to kill Potter…_  He was brought out of his fantasy of giving Potter a few drops of Veritaserum and dragging out his deepest secrets, by the overweight teenager.  "Hey!"

            "What is it?!"

            "You're looking for Harry, right?"  This caught his notice.  The boy seemed extremely nervous and kept glancing down the hallway behind him, as if something were going to attack him.  This was odd.

            "Yes, I am Professor Snape of Hogwarts.  Now tell me who are you and where the bloody hell is Potter?  I don't have all day."

            The boy then had the nerve to glare back at him.  _Yes, he's definitely a relative of Potter's._  "I'm Dudley Dursley, his cousin, sir."  He had enunciated the title as if it were an insult.  "Meet me in the park two blocks down from here in five minutes.  I can't tell you everything here."

            "Dudley!"  That bellowing voice was back.  Snape had to resist the strong urge to find the voice's owner and curse him to oblivion.  "Is he gone yet?!  If not…"

            Dudley quickly yelled back.  "No, dad, everything's fine!  He's leaving now!"  The boy made frantic motions towards the end of the street before slamming the door in his face.

            _Okay.  Now, I'm interested._

            It was nearly noon and Snape still hadn't come back.  All the party favors and decorations had been set up.  A large pile of brightly wrapped presents waited beside a large chocolate cake emblazoned with 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!' in green frosting.  Everyone was growing impatient for the guest-of-honor to arrive, especially one anxious godfather.

            "He shouldn't have taken this long!  I bet he's killed him."

            Dumbledore said reassuringly to his former student, "I'm sure Harry's fine, Sirius, calm down.  Severus isn't going to kill him nor take him to Voldemort."  A majority of the room flinched at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

            "He's a Death Eater, a slimeball, and hates Harry.  Of course, I'm worried!  I should have gone!"

            "Knowing you, you would have done something exceedingly foolish to those muggles.  I wanted someone who was more…what's the phrase…'on the level', so to speak."

            "Are you saying that Snape is more sane than I am?!"

            "No, I'm saying he is less likely to start magically causing mayhem.  Don't worry.  I'm sure they're coming up the walk right now."

            "Yes, you said that an hour ago.  I don't think it take that long to walk up it-"

            Ron, standing by the door, yelled out, "Guys, someone's coming in!"

            Sirius' concern vanished.  "Okay, people!  Places!"  Everyone hid themselves around the room and the area was magically made pitch dark.  The door opened almost painfully slow…

            "SURPRISE!"

            A snide reply greeted them.  "Yes, it is quite the surprise, isn't it?"  Severus Snape, the menacing man that he was, stood forebodingly in the doorway.  Alone.

            Sirius was the first to shake off his shock.  "Snape, where's Harry?"

            "Simple.  I don't know."

            "What?!"

            "From what little I do know, Potter's in trouble."

            The former Azkaban convict collapsed into a thankfully nearby armchair.  Just when he thought everything was going to finally be okay in the world, something bad happens.

***

The usual thanks to everyone who just read this.  Please review and let me know what you think.  I appreciate you taking the time to read this.  I was amazed I managed to get this out on time!  It took a long time for me to write and I thought I might have to work beyond my imposed deadline. 

It's out!  The Harry's friends have found out that the savior of the wizarding world is missing.  We won't  know the conversation between Dudley and Snape, but Snape does make a comment on it.  When writing this, I got this amusing picture of Snape going around selling encyclopedias or something.  You can't blame Dudley though.  He needed to tell what happened, but he couldn't while Vernon was there.  Yes, he came back.  Still nuts, though.

Next chapter, we are back to Harry, as well get a little bit of a background on Zylle's home life and background.  There will be the introduction of one of my favorite characters that I have created in, so be prepared.  After that, we're back to the Dark Lady in Annuvin as she meets up with her rather insane older sibling.  I'm especially looking forward to writing that one!

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  You're fast becoming one of my favorite reviewers.  Thanks for reading.

**Syth:  **Thank you so much!  I've never felt so complimented in my life!  Of course, I'll tell you when I update!  It's bound to be quick though:  every two to three days.  I'm happy that you enjoy this so much!

**Azntgr01:  **Thanks for giving me that piece of advice!  It will probably help me a lot to get new readers.

**Shiroiryu144: ** Like in Chapter 4, Harry does remember spells and whatnot that he learned at Hogwarts, the Dark Lady made sure of that.  He, however, doesn't remember people, major events, his name or parents, or how he learned all that.  Nope, he doesn't have his wand on him, but he'll learn some alternate methods to how to do it.  To your other question, you'll soon see that they are aware of wizards, but don't get involved too much.  Think how wizards are to muggles.  That's how elementals are to wizards.

**Wolfmoon:  **I'm glad you like this story, since some of your fics are my favorites as well.  The next chapter is on Harry and Zylle (it is a hard name to remember isn't it?  It's mostly the new character's fault at that.)

**Jordan:  **I did it!  I managed to get it up!  Yes, Vernon is living in his own world, but I don't think he'll be getting much pity.  I hope you liked this chapter.


	8. Different Points of View

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Eight:  Different Points of View

            "Okay, Nuitari.  I want you to concentrate on fire."

            Nuitari sighed.  At the moment, Dr. Diamante was "testing" him for elemental ability.  He definitely wanted to see if he did.  He hated not knowing things.  One can imagine how he viewed his amnesia.

            Nuitari, or rather Harry Potter, was currently sitting up in bed, four wires wrapped around his wrist.  These wires were connected to a tiny box held by the doctor.  The box itself looked a lot like a muggle calculator.  However, those machines didn't have blue, yellow, green, and red cords sticking out of it.

            It was July 31st, mid-day, though he had got up at ten in the morning.  His alarm clock was a pretty blonde girl around sixteen that was setting a tray of food by his bedside.  She wasn't a nurse; her pale blue jacket had 'VOLUNTEER' stitched on it.  When she was she saw that he was awake, she happily engaged into conversation with him while he ate the delicious hospital food.  He had to admit the chat they had was informative and helped him understand his new situation quite a bit.  She was so open and cheerful that he was strongly reminded of Dr. "Annie".

            The girl laughed when he told her this thought of his.  Her name was Mirabelle and was the second youngest of the doctor's family, his eldest daughter.  She was seventeen and resembled her mother more than her father.  Straightforward and friendly, she quickly put him at ease.  He guessed this was a family trait.

            Not surprisingly, Mirabelle knew a lot about his condition.  "I come from a long line of doctors and healers," she had told him.  "Dad talked about you a lot, especially to grandpa.  There was a whole family discussion about you."  Cassius Diamante, her grandfather, was a healer of great renown and even helped found the hospital they were now in.  Mirabelle seemed extremely proud of this fact.  She spent much of her time here to get some practical experience before she went to medical school in a few years.  "I'll be the first earth elemental in the family to become a doctor.  My mum's kind of upset about it, but Dad was really pleased.  Everyone else who took a career in medicine in the Diamante family are water elementals, like my dad and grandpa."

            This was what he wanted to know.  Seeing his chance, he obviously took it.  "Can you tell me what an elemental is?  Dr. Diamante really didn't make what one was very clear last night."

            "I don't see why not.  An elemental is someone who can control an element.  Usually those elements are fire, wind, water, or earth, but there are some people that could manipulate others.  See that plant?"  She pointed across the room to a pot of pansies on a table, many of them were buds.  "Watch."  Mirabelle put out her arm, fingers outstretched and glowing a soft green.  Ever so slightly, she moved a few of her fingers upward.  Before his eyes, a majority of the pansy buds bloomed into full blossoms.  She laughed at his startled expression.  The pansies reverted back to their original state when she moved her fingers again.  Seeing his expression of shock turn to confusion, she explained.  "As an earth elemental, I can control earth-related things.  Like you saw, I can control plants, but there are other perks.  I can heal wounds to a certain extent."

            "Wow," he stuttered out.  "Can I do that?"

            "Dad is going to check in a few hours to see if you do.  Grandpa things you might be an elemental, considering what Zylle told us about how you got here in the first place.  Grandpa is seldom wrong about these sort of things."

            "Do you think I do?"

            "It's doubtful, but I trust Grandpa on this.  Most wizards don't have that much true elemental ability, though, if any at all.  Those who do would probably rank low:  maybe first or second class at best."

            "Class?  So your class determines how powerful your ability is?"

            "You catch on quick!  There are five recognized classes.  First is the lowest and fifth is the highest.  Third is usually the level for an average elemental.  One person does hold the status of sixth class, first there has ever been.  I'm fourth, so that's pretty good.  My dad and grandpa are fifth class water elementals.  That is one of the reasons why our family is so influential in our clan, the Kiri-Kaminari Falcons."

            "I wonder what will happen if I'm not."

            "According to Philip – my oldest brother, he's a lawyer – we would have to hand you over to the state.  They might place you in an orphanage or something, since you don't remember.  It's hard to find records on someone who doesn't remember their past."

            He shuddered, recalling Tom's words about his childhood in an orphanage.  Mirabelle, though, recaptured his attention before he could begin to panic.  "Say, you don't have a name, right?"

            "Nope.  I'm completely blank in that area.  I really hate it."

            "Well, we need to call you something!"

            "But names aren't important.  People are."

            "That maybe true, but names make some things a lot simpler."  After a lot of discussion, Mirabelle settled on the name of a character in one of her favorite books.  Apparently, she was an avid reader and thought that the character's name fitted him.  "That's it!  You're going to be called 'Nuitari'."

            "Nuitari?  Why that name?  It sounds pretty odd if you ask me."

            "It's the name of this god from one of my favorite series:  Dragonlance.  It suits you perfectly.  This guy is pretty mysterious, just like you.  Also, Zylle mentioned this 'woman of darkness' was near you when she found you.  This guy is a dark god, so it also goes with your situation in a way."  He tried to persuade her to pick a different handle for him, like Harry or James (he liked those names for some odd reason) or something else that was more normal, but she wouldn't give in.  "Your new name is Nuitari and that is that!"  Judging by her nature, he guessed that even if he did take another name, she was going to make sure that everyone called him 'Nuitari'.  So he gave in.  Evidently, she wasn't going to budge from her decision.

            Hence, his name was now Nuitari.  It would take some time getting used to.  No last name, but it was better than nothing.

            Dr. Diamante himself came in an hour later and Mirabelle had to leave.  She promised to visit though and he was happy to have made a friend.  The doctor had made a few jokes about his new name, but agreed that it was better than nothing and that Mirabelle was a bit of a romantic.  Dr. "Annie", as he would forever be remembered in Nuitari's mind, claimed his daughter got her stubbornness from her mother Callie.  Then they started the test.

            It worked like this:  he thought about the element, while the calculator determined his level number through the cords.  Red was fire, yellow symbolized wind, blue corresponded with water, and green meant earth.  That level number affected his class, if he was an elemental at all.  He was officially an elemental if he got a number higher than 500 in at least one element.  If he received lower, then he had some ability, but it wasn't enough.  The score of 500 was the lowest number for a first class elemental, the weakest level.  According to Dr. Diamante, if he was proven to be an elemental then an elemental family could immediately and legally adopt him.  That family could then train his power.  When he saw the hopeful look on Nuitari's face, he said, "Don't get your hopes up, kid.  Most wizards tend don't have any elemental magic altogether.  If they do, it's usually under 500."

            "What makes the difference in getting elemental magic and wizarding magic?  And what is the difference between them anyway?"

            "Well, elemental magic is usually inherited by blood, but not all the time.  Sometimes it skips.  A friend of my father's who was a fire elemental had a muggle daughter, but her son was an elemental despite his father being a muggle as well.  Some elementals have wizard or witch children, for some reason.  There ware two ways you can get it though without elemental ancestry.  Some muggles have elemental children:  we try to find those who are like this quickly.  The parents tend to have a strong connection with nature without the ability or they are unconsciously in contact with magic a lot.  The other way is through a long line of wizarding blood; usually not having any muggle blood intermingled at all.  Squibs are usually the result of this since as I said before, wizards frequently don't have it all.  As for the difference between the two, it's all in the mindset.  Our point of view of magic and how it is done is poles apart from the outlook of wizards."

            "How so?  I know that wizards don't think this kind of magic can be done-"

            "Exactly.  They don't believe it is possible to have this kind of connection to nature.  Wizards generally go by their books and," he made a face here, "wands.  Elementals set their own limits and we normally experiment with what we can do.  We think that our powers come from nature and ourselves.  They think that magic comes from their wands.  This is one of the reasons we remain separate from them:  totally different philosophies.  Now let's start.  Okay, Nuitari, I want you to concentrate on fire."  

            Nuitari closed his eyes and focused on that element.  _Fire.  It was warm and comforting, but dangerous.  Ancient, it flickers and burns, shedding gentle light._

He heard a click and felt one of the wires retract from his wrist.  "Good.  Now, we'll do wind."

            That was simple; though how it was he didn't quite understand.  _Out of control and free, with open skies beckoning to him:  that was the beauty of the wind._  He also had fleeting thoughts of Tom, as well as the Lady.

            Nuitari, eyes still shut, heard a sharp gasp escape from Dr. Diamante.  "…Well!  That's interesting!  Let's go on with earth."  The yellow wire was released.

            _Earth…what did he think about it?  It was nice, _he supposed.  _It was nurturing and brought life.  Falling, that's what he disliked about it.  I really don't like falling._

            "Okay.  Water."  The green wire let go of his wrist.

            _Water was clear and pure.  It was okay,_ he guessed.  Nuitari assumed this was because he probably didn't know how to swim that well or maybe he had an accident dealing with water somehow.  _Did it extend to snow and rain? _ He knew he liked rain for some odd reason.  _It must be another one of those things I'm picking up, like that falling thing._

            The blue wire retracted with a snap.  The doctor nodded.  "Acceptable.  Now, I have to go and record this and decide what to do.  You, on the other hand, will eat.  A nurse will be up here with you lunch.  Make sure you eat all of it; you're far too thin."  He turned to leave.

            But Nuitari needed to know what his results were.  "Dr. Diamante, wait!  Did I pass?"

            The water elemental healer smiled happily.  "You sure did.  Now, you better eat!  I'm not letting Betty leave your side unless you do!"  With his usual happy gait, he exited the room.  

            Hedwig fluttered down to his arm from where she was perched on the IV pole.  Nuitari stroked her white feathers absently.  "It looks like we might be staying, girl."  The owl hooted in what one could call a joyful manner.

            "Lunch time!"  With that exclamation, Betty the nurse burst in with a tray piled high with food.  _I'm supposed to eat all of THAT?!  He's crazy!_

            Number 14 Zephyrus Court was a special house.  This three-story dwelling was one of the oldest buildings in the London area, built long before the date written on the deed.  It was made from warm gray stone and blue-gray slate shingles covered the roof.  Green and purple ivy crept up its side, but it stayed clear of the windows, as if by magic.  An elaborate black iron fence enclosed the large yard, home to well-kept patches of tulips and lilies, with an occasional rose bush scattered about.  It wasn't perfect.  There were some weeds here and there in the green grass.  The lilac shrub in the corner badly needed pruning, as did the old beech tree by the front window.  That was the way the Number 14's inhabitants liked it, though.  An ancient willow grew beside the slate stairs, which lead to the front door.  The whole place had a homey, but stately, feel to it.  Number 14 was a very important place:  it was the home of the Hawking family for centuries.

            Zylle Hawking was home on time for once, eight o'clock sharp.  She carried a key, but really didn't need to.  The house had a mind of its own and it knew the members of the family.  Unless you were a recognized Hawking, a friend of the family, or were invited, you couldn't get inside at all.  It was one of the many existing security measures that the family had put up throughout the ages.  Zylle hesitated before the oaken door opened for her.  _I have no choice now._

            She was hit by a huge blast of music as soon as she stepped inside.  The door shut behind her, the many locks clicking and snapped closed.  She sighed and dropped her suitcase on the nearby mahogany table.  Kicking off her heels, she walked down the hallway towards the back of the house.  The source of the noise was in the kitchen.  It always was.  She also knew what, or more accurately, who was causing it.

            It was a tradition in the Hawking family to have everyone live under the same roof, thus explaining the house's large size.  This was supposed to strengthen the bonds of unity and blood between them.  Number 14 would automatically adjust to the amount of people in the household.  There was no breaking this writ of Hawking protocol.  If there were a large family at some point, the house would add rooms to adapt to the number of family members without any human intervention.  Again, this charm was cast by one of the more vague Hawking ancestors.  The house of Hawking, though, had dwindled over the years.  During the last century, the family had produced only one child per generation, like Zylle and her father.  Currently, the only Hawkings were Zylle herself and her mother, a Hawking by marriage.  Her father had died many years ago, months before she was born.  That's why there were only four bedrooms.  Both women had pondered over the existence of the extra bedroom, since the house was enchanted to only have one guest bedroom.  Gradually, as the years passed, they overlooked this.  

            Zylle stepped into the kitchen.  _I was right.  It was her doing all this.  _

            The kitchen, toned in bright yellows and deep blues, was filled with the smell of spiced chicken.  It reverberated with the blaring sound of salsa music.  The small woman bustling around the room was humming and partially dancing to the fast beat.  With one small click, Zylle shut off the radio.

            The other woman turned around when she noticed that the music stopped.  Sarah Hawking made a face.  "You never let me have any fun."  Zylle's mother was a woman of great energy, which was amazing at her age.  At a healthy sixty-two, she didn't seem like she was going to go anytime soon.  Often, the 'old lady' was zooming around town:  running, shopping, talking, dancing, absolutely anything.  She didn't even look old.  Her dark gray hair still had streaks of black and her brown eyes remained bright.  To many who knew her well, especially the older generation of Grey Tower Town, this was no surprise.

            Sarah Circe Hawking, fifth class fire elemental, was a hero of the great wars that occurred over fifty years ago.  These wars were between elementals that supported the dark wizard known as Grindelwald, called "Phantom Elementals", and the elementals that went against them, the "Shining Elementals".  Her father, then the leader of Arashi-Tenku Dragons, was a major leader in the Shining Elemental ranks.  However, he died protecting a muggle family from slaughter.  Pregnant and widowed, Sarah had taken her deceased husband's position as Black Dragon leader and was a main factor in the Shining side's victory over their enemies.  She never remarried and raised Zylle alone, teaching her all that she knew.  Nevertheless, Sarah was an "eccentric".  For one thing, she and their neighbor Hans (a fellow eccentric and Sarah's best friend) were always organizing giant festivals and events for the town.  Zylle often tried to stop this, but her mother and Hans never quit.  She also enjoyed bowling.  Eventually, Zylle had given up attempting to settle her mother down.  _It was clear that she wasn't going to anyway._  Besides, Sarah could cook and really well at that.  Zylle had trouble making the simplest things.

            "I just don't get you, Mum."

            "Neither did your father.  You obviously take after him, always serious.  You work yourself too hard."

            _Uh oh.  I know where this is going…_

            "You need a man!  You were six when I was your age!  Why don't you get married?"  Sarah took out the chicken from the oven and began getting out dishes for the other parts of the meal.

            Zylle sighed.  They always went through this.  "I told you, Mum, I haven't met the right guy yet."

            "Honey, men don't rain down from heaven.  We may wish we did, but they don't.  Well…maybe not.  I met your father after he fell out of the sky when he was learning how to fly."  She shoved the plate holding that delicious oven-cooked hen at Zylle, clearly meaning for her to carry it.

            "Besides, the fact that I outrank everyone doesn't help."  Zylle set the chicken and some utensils down on the dining room table, followed by Sarah with a steaming pot of broth.  This room was wallpapered with a deep green leaf pattern and the furniture was of the dark variety.  Sarah would have liked something lighter, but she couldn't change it.  Only the master or mistress of the house could decide on the décor.  Zylle was happy with it, so it remained the same.  _I get enough 'light' and 'color' at work, in any case._  "Mum, listen to me.  First of all, I'm a sixth class wind elemental.  No one's reached that level before in all of our known history.  Second, I'm the Black Dragon leader of our clan.  You know well enough that the Arashi-Tenku Dragons are among the most influential of all the elemental clans of England and the fact that I'm its main leader doesn't help."

            "Your attitude leaves much to be desired as well."

            "Mum?  You're impossible."

            Sarah smiled a toothy grin at her daughter.  Fortunately for her, her good health extended to her teeth.  She'd die if she had to wear dentures.  "I know.  It's what makes me so lovable."  Zylle couldn't help but laugh at that.

            The older woman's expression turned serious.  "Really, you will have to get a move on.  You **are** the last of the Hawkings and someone has to continue the line, even if they don't carry our name."

            "I know, I know.  And I promise I won't get involved at all with David Crowley."

            "Good, I don't like him.  Never trust womanizers.  Now you're my daughter, which means I know you like the back of my hand.  What's got you so mad?"

            "Why couldn't you name me something normal?!"

            "Misspelling or mispronunciation?"  Yes, Sarah was used to this question.

            "Both.  Where on Earth did the name 'Zylle' come from?!" 

            "I have told you a thousand times already.  Your name is a combination of the first letters of my mother's and my sister's names:  Zelda, Yvette, Laura, Lucinda, and Elaine.  Since they all were killed in the war, I had to find some way to honor them.  Hence, 'Zylle'."

            "You're mad."

            "I prefer 'creative'.  Now, the house is trying to get our attention.  Who's at the door?"

            "What?"  Then, she heard the doorbell.  It was louder than it usually was, meaning this wasn't the first time it had rung.  She asked to no one in particular, "Who is it?"

            In curly gold letters, the name 'ANASTASIUS DIAMANTE' spelled out on the wallpaper.  Sarah smiled.  "Well!  I haven't seen him in a while!  Always to busy too visit an old lady, isn't he?"

            "Mum, he's a doctor and has a family.  Of course, he's busy!  I wonder what he wants.  Let him in!"  Zylle pointed this last statement to the house.  A few moments later, Anastasius Diamante strode into the room, for once out of doctor's clothing.  Sarah jumped up and hugged him as if he were a son.

            "I haven't seen you in a long time, lad!  How's the family?  Here, have some food.  Lord knows you probably need it."

            "Sorry, but I can't stay long.  It's about our mystery boy."

            This caught her attention.  Zylle asked him, "So you've tested him?"

            "Yes.  Oh and just to tell you:  he has a name now.  Mirabelle gave it to him.  It's Nuitari.  You know how Mirabelle is."

            Zylle ignored the pointed look that her mother was giving her.  "Well?  What were they?"

            "It's incredible.  He's high level for _all _of them."

            "Why did you do all four?  I told you he arrived in Aiken-Quincy Park in a whirlwind."

            "You know people can access other elements.  Remember that you're also a fifth class fire elemental.  It's just that they develop blocks against certain ones.  Look at you and water.  He has blocks, too.  I think it's against water and earth judging from the tests."

            "That only happens when two high level elementals have a child, so it doesn't answer my question."  She paused here.  "Fine!  Thank you for all you've given me in my life, Mum!"

            "About time I got some gratitude for all I've done for you."

            "I was sarcastic."

            "So?  I still was thanked.  Good enough."

            "Anyway," Anastasius interrupted.  "I thought it wise to.  Here are the results.  At first, I thought it was a joke."  Anastasius handed Zylle a sheet of typed paper.

            She looked over it quickly.  Then, she reread it.  Dropping the paper in her shock, she exclaimed, "You're kidding!"

**Results of Elemental Test for Patient #004213678**

Class Scale: First: +500.    Second: +1000.    Third: +1500.    Fourth: +2000    Fifth: +2500 

Earth:  2376- 4th class            Water:  2746- 5th class

Fire:  2905- 5th class               **Wind:  3242- 6th class**

Notes:  -confirmed wizard, with high power.                   -highly abnormal. 

_***_

Thanks for all who have reviewed and kept up with this.  Who would have thought it would come out this successful.  I certainly didn't.  This had to be my largest chapter:  twice as long as the lengthy chapter three.

Harry's taking the first step:  a new name.  Or rather, Mirabelle made him.  After this point, he's going to be known just as Nuitari, except in the author's notes here.  Now that he's been proven to be an elemental, an elemental family can legally adopt him.  Meanwhile, the wizarding world is going into chaos when they find out who's missing.  One thing to make clear:  like the good doctor said, all elementals can access all elementals.  Influences though, affect which ones they can use.  Look at Harry's results:  Harry didn't like earth because he disliked falling to the ground.  This blocks him from using earth.  This is typical among all elementals.  The class scale shows which numbers pertain to which class.

Next chapter introduces two new characters, both connected to the Dark Lady.  We'll get to see what the immortals are planning and probably a bit on Harry and Zylle.  I thinking I might just after all put up the conversation between Dudley and Snape, people have been asking for it.  Hopefully, chapter nine should be up just in time for Harry's birthday here in real time. 

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **I'm not really concentrating on pairings in this too much, but I can tell you that Harry and Ginny are not going to get together.  Certain circumstances later will prevent much from going on between them.  Harry/Hermione is a favorite pairing of mine, so I'll think about that.  So far, a lot of people have been giving me ideas on pairings.  Since that might come in later, I find it helpful, so thanks for letting me know your opinion.  I've considered letting us in on the Dudley-Snape conversation later, since there have been requests for it.  I had to make Number 4 in disrepair.  It always seemed to me that Harry was the only one taking care of the place.  I hope you liked this chapter.

**Wolfmoon:  **Thanks for putting me on your favorites list!  No doubt, you'll have trouble remembering Harry's new name (don't you just feel angry at Mirabelle now?) so you can just refer to him as Harry in your reviews.  I'll understand.  And the meaning behind Zylle's name is revealed and in her job, a name like that is not a good thing.  I sometimes forget my characters too, so I always make a list of things and people I want to include before hand, complete with description (I also suffer from a horrible memory).  The pre-planning to this was about fifteen pages!  I hope you enjoyed this chapter and tell me what you think.

**Gold Silk:  **I felt that it was fitting that Snape would let everyone know what was happening.  Personally, I thought him doing that would add an interesting twist to the story, as well as a sore spot for dear ole Sirius.  I don't think it'll stop him from being his usual lovable surly self though.  I hope you liked this chapter.

**Mella deRanged:  **I know that it is sort of odd.  Everything does eventually piece together though.

Queen Seta/Remmy-The-Insane:  I've gotten a lot of reviews saying that they've enjoyed the insane Vernon and also a lot saying I should just kill him off.  Thanks for putting me on your favorites! 

**crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  **I think we all felt bad for Sirius.  Here he is, all happy and hopeful, and then everything just crashes down on him.

**PhoenixPadfoot89:  **Thanks for reviewing again!  I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible.

**tnycool:  **I'll be sure to.  Chapter nine is already in the works.

**Prd2bAmerican18:  **It's good to hear that you can't wait for more of this, it really makes me happy.

**Virusu:  **I hope this came out soon enough for you.  Thank you for saying it was brilliant.

**azntgr01:  **Things to begin to pick up after chapter nine.

**gaul:  **Thank you!

**panaginip:  **Thank you!  And as you can see, I update quick.

**Cataclysmic:  **Thanks for letting me know what you like about Elemental Genesis.  A whole lot of new characters are going to come into play while we do get glimpses of the old crowd and what they're doing.  I appreciate your imput!

**GrimmyD:  **Thanks.


	9. Conversations of Relevance

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Nine:  Conversations of Relevance 

            Dark curtains swayed in the cool wind blowing in from the crystal windows.  A woman with long dark hair and striking blue eyes glided silently down the corridor, pausing at one glass portal to look out on her realm.  The Queen of Annuvin, the Dark Lady, had done a lot of work to assure her plan would be successful.  But it was time for her to return to her job.  Nevertheless, she would keep an eye on the mortal realm.

            Not many of the immortals traveled here to Annuvin.  This was why many had a repulsive image of the place.  Actually, it was much like Lethe:  striking in its own way.  She breathed in the heady perfume of Night Blossoms.  Those blooms were sacred to her, as was the Night Tree itself.  Unlike the land of oblivion, there were many of these in the land of the dead, not just one.  Stars that seemed frighteningly close shone light down on her dark place, illuminating it silver.

            Her mind was elsewhere though; far away spinning more plans within plans.  She tore her gaze from the window and her beautiful, but dreaded realm.  She continued down the hallway to the main entrance hall.  She had to go back to work soon, as much as she didn't want to.  So, the elegant figure in the high-collared sleeveless gown walked gracefully back to do her niche in life, which she found rather tedious.  The dress was dark green and glowed with each step.  Most of her clothing in her wardrobe were dark-colored.  Her reasons:  she liked those colors, she had an image to keep, and they were harder to stain than those light-colored, skimpy garbs that the other goddesses wore.  She was a practical person.  

            Passing an ornate marble staircase in the main hall, a sarcastic voice said out of nowhere, "Slacking?  Typical."

            She sighed and turned to the wolf statuette made of black stone fixated on the end of the banister.  "I don't want to hear it, Black Wolf."

            The animated wolf made a snort.  "I'm sure you don't.  Young people tend **not** to listen to the elder voices of reason."

            The Dark Lady raised a black eyebrow.  "You?  A voice of wisdom?"

            "Yes, I am!  I used to be one of the ornaments gracing the Throne of Darkness in Tartarus!"

            "Right.  Dad tried to destroy you because you're annoying.  I don't know what Mother was THINKING when she stopped him."

            "How dare you insult your great mother?!  The Lady Nyx knows far more than you do."

            "Obviously!  She's the goddess of the night!  She watches practically everything and is ages older."

            "A truly amazing woman, Lady Nyx is.  How she produced such thick offspring is beyond me.  It must be your father's blood."

            "I'd like to see you tell him that to his face."

            "Are you mad?!  Disrespect the ultimate god of darkness and lord of Tartarus?!  I'll stick to making fun of Lord Erebus behind his back, thank you."

            "You are such a coward."

            "No, I merely am smart and happen to be extremely concerned with my survival.  Now that you're here, I can at last talk to you about…"

            "I was ignoring you for a reason, Black Wolf."

            "So?  You can't now since you need to open the doors soon anyway.  You can't keep all those souls out there forever."

            "I had to deal with a few things in the mortal plain."

            "Why?  All souls end up here anyway.  That's another of your flaws:  you interfere far too much."

            "It was important and I'm not going to discuss it with you.  Yet.  Now, what did you want?  Though I think I have a good idea."

            "I've been sitting here for millennia, girl, and have seen every soul that has ever existed."

            "Your point?  I know that very well.  You are certainly in an ideal position to do that.  Not to mention that you certainly take advantage of it.  Honestly, can you for once stop spewing foul language at them?"

            "I'm not done!  All I see are the same souls over and over again.  There's hardly a new one around, just old ones.  Are you listening to me?"

            "I know, Black Wolf, it's been concerning me for years and you've certainly haven't kept this to yourself."  This was true.  Very rarely did she send someone to his or her final destination anymore.  Usually, they went straight to reincarnation.  This trend started sometime in the early AD years and had gotten worse over time.  Personally, she herself was bored, but she wasn't going to admit that.  And she certainly was not going to divulge that thought to a statue.  "I can't send them off until they have fulfilled their purpose in life.  You know that."

            "I don't care.  Send them off anyway…what's that?!"

            The Dark Lady listened for a second, before her complexion paled.  "Oh no…"

            "MEL!  Long time, no see!"  A set of large heavy doors at the top of the stairs opened with a bang.  Black Wolf howled in what probably could be called exasperation.  Standing above both the Lady and the statue, was a tall man with wild black hair.  Under rich black robes, he wore simple blue jeans and a white t-shirt.  He looked to be in his thirties and looked down on the Lady with a large grin.  The newcomer had gold and silver flecked blue eyes, filled with mischief.

            Jumping up onto the banister, he slid down to the lower level.  Once there, he enveloped the Lady in a huge hug and swung off her feet in a circle.  She couldn't help but laugh at his antics, while Black Wolf just sighed.  "Thanatos!  Put me down!"  The Lady could barely keep the humor from her command.

            Thanatos complied, after a while.  "Fine, fine.  Don't be such a wet blanket, Mel."

            "Don't call me that.  You know I HATE that nickname."

            "But I LIKE calling you 'Mel'.  The name 'Melania' is far too formal for me to be calling my little sis."

            "I'm sure it won't kill you, Thanatos."

            "It's Nat!  Mother was horrible at naming us."  He turned abruptly to Black Wolf.  "I know what you're thinking and I don't want to hear it."  The statue snorted again, but was cut off from responding by the man.  "Now, what's this I'm hearing about a boy in the mortal realm?  It's not like you to intervene in human affairs."

            "I had to.  One, he was suffering in that hellhole that Dumbledore fellow put him in."  Her eyes took on a steel edge as she thought about the events that took place in Number 4 Privet Drive.  "Two, **she** was reaching out to him through Voldemort.  I had to do something."

            "Ah, you're finally not taking it anymore?  About time."

            "They either end up dead, radically insane, or possessed!  This has been happening for over a thousand years and there are only two left.  I barely saved Tom, the least I can do is keep Harry safe."

            "Just out of curiosity, this question is about Harry.  He has 'silver sight' like Tom, right?"

            "Yes, he can use it.  Thankfully, that ability will help him out in all this mess."

            "But you know the side effects to having that gift and so does **she**:  they see things sometimes when they're not even trying.  It's happened before, look at what happened in the beginning of his summer.  **She'll** make sure that he'll get dreams or visions, whether they are about the past or pertaining to what Voldemort is doing.  How are you going to deal with that?"

            "Remember his owl?"

            "Of course, I do.  It's hard not to remember the old soul of the other ornament that was on Dad's throne.  White Owl was actually useful, unlike this lump."

            "I'm over here, you insolent pile of-"

            "EXCUSE ME!  But anyway, I gave her the task of making sure that **she** doesn't try to reach him.  White Owl will do her job."

            Thanatos sank down to sit on one of the white marble steps and looked up at his younger sister.  "You can't protect them forever.  Tom has his role to play, as does Harry.  If we coddle them too much, they won't be able to deal with later obstacles that we can't help them with."

            "I know that, but-"

            "But nothing.  They need to be prepared.  That's why we sent Harry to Grey Tower and Tom to Lethe.  The pieces are moving into our favor, but it's not too late for them to block us completely, Mel."

            Melania sighed.  When Thanatos was serious, then it was definitely important.  It just wasn't in his nature.  "I can't help it.  I'm not able to be there for them all the time and that upsets me."

            "You've spent too much time among the mortals," Black Wolf reprimanded.  "For one thing, you care about them far too much, which can endanger them.  Also, it is partly your fault this is happening.  Most of it on **her**, but you do carry part of the blame."

            "Black Wolf, you're not helping her."

            "I'm not meant to, Grim Reaper.  Are you also slacking off?  I wouldn't be surprised, you're more hopeless than she is."

            "I do my job!"

            "If you call always running off, especially on Friday nights, to do stand-up comedy 'doing your job'."

            "Laughter in the world is a good thing, there's hardly enough of it.  Besides, I'm hilarious!  I'm so funny that some people die laughing!"

            Melania narrowed her eyes at the god of death.  "Often, literally."

            "What a way to go, though, huh?"

            "Moving off from this fascinating topic," interrupted Black Wolf.  "You need to get some new souls out into circulation.  We're all getting tired of seeing the same faces over and over again.  If I'm bored, I can imagine how this dimwit and his lackeys feel."

            Thanatos glared at the surly wolf.  "What was Mother DRINKING when she stopped Dad from liquefying you in a blast of dark energy?  Whatever it was, I'd like some.

            She moaned loudly.  Being stuck in between a bad-tempered nonliving being with an attitude stuck to a staircase and her older brother, the insane death deity, had to be horrible.  Add that to her worries over Tom, Harry, and the state of the souls and she had quite a migraine.  Massaging her temples, she asked, "Nat, he does have a point.  What do you and the reapers think about all of this?"

            "Us?  Bored out of our tiny, nonexistent minds-"

            "You're right about the state of your intelligence at least."

            "Shut up, Black Wolf!  Anyway, some have been asking for retirement."

            Melania paled.  "I hope that you're joking."

            He nodded the negative.  "Sorry, but I'm not.  I had to let Mei-zhu Li go two days ago.  He was one of our oldest reapers – advisor to one of the emperors of China's Song dynasty – and one of the best.  I wouldn't be surprised if Indra Mugdal or Ptolemy Shadis handed in the scythe as well."

            "Wonderful.  Even just one Reaper leaving their post isn't a good thing."

            "It is getting out of hand.  Let's remember the case of one Brian Jennings."  At the two groans that greeted the mention of this one name, he grinned.  "You both know he's the perfect example of constant reincarnation."

            "I forgot what his purpose even was," admitted Melania.

            Black Wolf gave a sharp bark.  "I can't say I blame you there.  How many times has he been here?  I think it was 2,659 times since 1633?  I swear that in his unconscious mind he knows us."

            Thanatos stifled a laugh.  Sending a glare in his direction, she nevertheless replied, "You know that can't be right.  Reincarnation totally erases the soul's memory of the past and of here."

            "I have to agree with the old stone statue here, that guy does probably recognize us.  He happens to hold the record for 'Most Incarnated Soul', for your information.  I bet that Annie Kentworth is going to throw a fit if she even sees him again, much less picks him up."

            "But I can't send him off yet!  You know the rules!  As great as my cunning and deviousness is, I can't get around that."

            Black Wolf sneered, "I bet you haven't tried.  He probably never will make it to his final judgment anyway and he's the only one at fault.  Everyone knows that you shouldn't cheat on your wife, ESPECIALLY when that said wife has Viking blood running through her veins.  Did you notice that her reincarnated soul is the one that keeps killing him?"

            Thanatos blinked.  "No.  Did you, Mel?"

            "Unfortunately so.  Remember that time he came back five months after we sent him off in August 1974?"

            "Yeah.  His mother got into a car accident and miscarried him.  Annie picked him up.  Again.  Why?"

            "The driver of the other vehicle was the reincarnate of his wife.  In every one of his lives, he's been killed by whoever has his old wife's soul.  Talk about revenge."

            "Ouch."

            "Well, you get the idea.  Now both of you, quiet.  I'm reopening the doors."  She snapped her fingers.  The huge carved black doors at the end of the hall slowly opened.  But before they had opened completely, the loud voice of a female reached their ears.

            "I've had enough of this!  Boss!"  A blonde woman in her late twenties angrily swept into the room, dark green eyes flashing dangerously.  Behind the fuming, black-robed woman was a thirty or so man looking very confused.  Seeming to forget who she was in front of Melania and Thanatos, she pointed at the male and screeched, "Again!  This makes it the thousandth time I've picked him up!  His wife's reincarnate killed him again.  It involved poison, a gun, a knife, a six-pack of beer, and his girlfriend's betrayal, who happened to be the reincarnation of his mistress!  How does this always happen to him?! I'M SICK OF IT!""

            With a bemused expression, the man asked, "Don't I know all you people?"

            Black Wolf turned to the shocked Melania.  "See?  He's back!  Are you ABSOLUTELY SURE you can't do anything?"

            Nuitari's head shot up when he heard the door to his room open.  It had been three days since his testing and he was wondering what was going to happen next.  _I know I passed, which means an elemental family will adopt me,_ he thought.  _I wonder who I'll end up which clan they're in._

Mirabelle was fast becoming his reliable source of information about this new life he was about to begin.  Without her explanations, he would have probably been lost beyond belief.  He had the feeling that her father previously made sure that he didn't hear much about the secretive world of these elementals so that if he weren't one of them, he wouldn't be so upset.  _But the test proved I was.  Maybe I'm low class or something.  They said that wizards didn't have that much ability in this anyway…"_ He shook the feeling of disappointment out of his head.  _I have the power at any rate, so I shouldn't be concerned with class_.  Nuitari then recalled what Mirabelle had told him of the clans.

            "There are six main clans around here, each and everyone with its own incredible history," the bubbly blond had said.  "Though there are many differences between us, we try to live together in peace."

            "How can you tell who is from which clan?"

            "Every generation, a tournament is held to decide who will be the clan leaders of a certain age group.  After that, we get a tattoo of our clan animal on our right arms along with our 'eye' mark.  I can't tell you what the 'eye mark' means, you need to find that out on your own.  But each eye mark is unique from person to person.  The clan animal tattoo is the same for all members of a clan, only with color variations.  There are the normal colors: purple, usually with the accents of other colors.  The leaders though have animal tattoos in green, red, blue, and black – that's in order of whose most powerful, least to greatest.  Whoever holds the title of Black is the main leader of the clan.  It's actually going to occur this year, late August and September, so school will start late this year.  I'm definitely going to compete.  Another way is through your last name.  Many of the families around here are large.  For examples, a Diamante is always a Falcon and a member of the Arlen family is always a Unicorn.  Get it?"

            "The clans are?"

            "The clans are mainly decided by the type of elemental magic they focus on.  Well, there is my clan:  the Kiri-Kaminari Falcons.  Many of us know the healing arts.  The Eikou-Taiyou Unicorns mainly concentrate on the arts of divination, prophecy, and philosophy.  Defense and agility are taught by the Seijaku-Shinrin Tigers while the Rekka-Ki Chimeras concentrate primarily on offense."

            Nuitari pondered on this a bit here.  "Wait.  Didn't that woman, Zylle, say she belonged to another clan?"

            "Oh, that clan.  Yes, she's the Black Dragon of the Arashi-Tenku Dragons.  They focus on a balance of offensive and defensive magic, as well as strategy.  They're pretty influential, mainly as the peacemakers.  However, there is a sort of rivalry between them and the Rekka-Ki.  You might see it, when you are released from here."  

            Lately, he had been thinking about where he was going to go.  _Would there be other children?  What would he learn?  Would he go to school here?_  It was really preying on his mind and Mirabelle wasn't helping.  He was certain that she knew who was going to be his guardian because she kept laughing when he asked.  But no, she wouldn't let loose a single hint.  Plainly put, he was frustrated and impatient.

            So, he was hoping that he'd finally get some answers when that door opened.  Nuitari was surprised when he saw who walked in.  It wasn't Mirabelle, or Betty.  The person wasn't even Dr. Diamante.

            Zylle Hawking wasn't someone he was expecting to see.  Hedwig flew over to the woman with an easy familiarity.  She laughed as the bird landed on her shoulder and petted it.  The owl in turn nuzzled her affectionately.  Then, looking rather pleased with herself, she flew back to Nuitari.  "Hi, I came to see how you're doing."  She sat down in a cushioned chair by his bedside.

            "I'm fine, really.  Dr. Annie said I could be released in two days, so I'll finally be able to get out of bed!  They give me way too much food here."

            "Betty, I take it?  She's like that.  You are underweight, so Annie probably thought it best that you were assigned to her.  What's this I hear about a name now?"

            "Yeah, it's Nuitari.  I wanted something more normal, but Mirabelle wouldn't give in."

            "Even if you did choose something more normal, no one would call you that.  Mirabelle's stubborn and she would convince everyone to call you that anyway.  She did that to John Xaviers, her cousin.  Even his relatives call him the nickname she gave him."

            "What was it?"

            "Bubba."  She smiled when Nuitari burst out into hysterics.  "It's true.  Her reason was that he looked like a 'Bubba'.  I really don't see it, but it's funny.  We have been calling him that since he was twelve."

            Nuitari quickly wiped the tears of mirth out of his eyes.  "I shouldn't laugh, look at my name."

            "Look at my name!  For one thing, my insane mother made it up using the first letters of her mothers and her four sisters' names.  Two, it's horrible in my business."  She made a face of disgust as she straightened her skirt.  Her business suit today was bright red, with a pale blue dress shirt.

            "Really?  What do you work as?  The way Dr. Anne describes it, it's pretty hard and soon you're going to have a nervous breakdown."

            Zylle's scowl deepened.  "Remind me to hurt him.  Badly.  You know about LBN on television, right?"

            Channel 6?  Of course, it's the only channel worth watching.  Great programming."

            "Glad to know my hard work is appreciated," she said with a grin.  Seeing his confused expression, she clarified.  "I'm an executive at the station.  Practically everything and everyone reports to me."

            "Sounds tough.  Wouldn't it be a lot easier to have several executives?  You can't do everything."

            "There are other execs:  twelve of them.  They just don't do their job.  They'll probably be booted out soon."

            "I see.  They're doing nothing so the station would hire better people who actually do their work to take their place."

            "Most of those said 'better' people will eventually become like their predecessors and the whole game begins again.  It's a vicious cycle, but it's the way to power.  I'm happy to be where I am."

            He nodded.  Her words made sense in a very realistic, down-to-earth way.  Interested, he asked, "Do you know any of the new people coming up?"

            "I'm hoping this girl, Rachel, gets chosen.  She does good work and I like her.  However, we have something else to discuss."

            "My results?"  _Answers!  About time!_

"Yes, and that's why Annie's hiding behind the door."  There was a large crash outside at that remark.  "Come in, Annie.  Since you obviously can't sneak around."

            Dr. Diamante sheepily shuffled in, red-faced in embarrassment.  "I hate when you do that."

            Nuitari stared at Zylle.  "How did you-"

            She cut him off.  "You'll learn it soon."

            "That's true," interjected the good doctor.  "You passed the test, so you can be legally adopted by a clan family.  It will be relatively quick so let's thank the elements for luck and our influence in law.  Let's go over the results."  He nodded.  He definitely wanted to know this.  "We found your results highly unusual."  _Unusual?  Is that bad?_  "You placed high level for all four, but we believe you may have a few blocks."  The doctor cleared his throat.  "Earth, fourth class.  Water and fire, both fifth class.  Now, here's the interesting one:  wind, sixth class."

            _Sixth class?  Him?!  This was unexpected._ "You're uh…joking, right?"

            "I'm afraid I'm not, Nuitari.  You're sixth class."

            All he had learned so far about the classes and differences seemed to be rather pointless at the moment.  "But I'm a wizard!  Aren't I supposed to be low class?"

            "That's what we found odd.  Well, if you overlook the fact that sixth class is strange in itself-" For some reason, the doctor stopped abruptly and looked nervously at Zylle.  She was glaring at him.  Obviously, he took a hint and left that subject.

            Now Nuitari had more questions than ever.  "How did I get high class status anyway?"

            "I'm sorry to say that we don't know.  It was as I said before:  it all depends on ancestry.  Evidently, you are the descendant of a powerful someone whose genes somehow created this effect."

            He sighed.  "I hate not knowing things."  Hedwig nipped his ear comfortingly.  "Thanks, girl.  So?"  He refocused his attention back to the two adults.  "Who's going to take me in?"

            A large and teasing smile lit up Dr. Diamante's face.  "The only other sixth class elemental, who also happens to use the wind element."

            "Who's that?"

            "Why, she's right here in this room!"  Dr. Diamante then made a large extravagant gesture towards Zylle.  "You just barely beat her in number, but you're inexperienced and still young.  Don't think you can defeat her yet."

            "You?"  Nuitari turned to the older woman, who he had before thought was his mother when he awoke three days ago.  "You're going to take care of and train me?"

            Zylle for once looked unsure.  "If you don't mind dealing with me, my eccentric mother-" Dr. Diamante made a derisive sound at this and she once again shot him a venomous look.  "Not to mention our insane neighbor, Hans."

            Nuitari grinned.  "That would be great!"

            Zylle smiled back at him.  "Welcome to the family, Nuitari Hawking."

***

Thanks to all who read this and please review.  I must say when I signed in this morning I got a heart attack.  I somehow jumped from 46 reviews the day before yesterday to a whopping 95 today!  Keep them coming!  I love hearing from you!  Due to demand, I'm trying to make my chapters longer.  I just hope it doesn't interfere with my update schedule.

First off:  Happy birthday to Harry Potter.  It needed to be said.

Harry's finally is getting a new home.  An odd one, but a good home nevertheless.  Remember the numbers on the test results?  Dr. Diamante meant that he beat Zylle in number very slightly, but since he has neither knowledge nor experience using his power, she's still stronger.  He'll improve over time.

As you can tell, the Dark Lady or as she is revealed, Melania, has a lot to deal with.  Black Wolf was part of her father's throne before dear old dad got annoyed (for obvious reasons) and tried to destroy him.  Melania's mother stopped him and gave the statue to her.  The dark realm of Tartarus is very important in the story later and it has a horrible reputation for a good reason.  Thanatos is neither grim nor depressing at all; he likes to make people laugh.  Dear ole Death is sort of the black sheep of the family, like Black Wolf sort of implies. 

Just to make this clear:  romance will probably not pop up in this fic.  I'm trying to keep it focused on Harry's new life.  Though I am a Harry/Hermione fan, including romance in this will most likely ruin the plot at the moment.  I really don't want that happening.  Also, how will I explain Harry liking Hermione when he has no memory of her?  I'm not going to go there right now.

The LBN on Channel 6 doesn't really exist, I think.  It's made up here anyway.  Zylle does really work hard though, doesn't she?****

Next chapter will probably be up by August 2nd if all goes well, but since I'm trying to write longer chapters, I'm not guaranteeing it.  We will see the Dudley-Snape conversation, Sirius dealing with Vernon, and a glimpse of who **she** is.

Remember that I will refer to Harry as Nuitari in the fic, but as Harry in the author's notes.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers (I have a lot of people to thank!  But I will thank you anyway, since your reviews mean a lot to me):_

**Quatre Winner:  **I'm happy that my story caught your attention and that you like it!  I've never thought of writing a novel based on this, but thank you for the compliment.  I'm sorry to say that Harry/Nuitari isn't going back to Hogwarts anytime soon.  But later on, things from Hogwarts will eventually make their way into his new life.  I love your little scene there!

**gaul:  **Thank you and I hope this chapter answered many of your questions.

**Mad Ant:  **Thanks for putting me on your favorites!

**Prd2bAmerican18:  **Thank you.

**shiroiryu14:  **Harry can't help it with the blocks, but he might find a way around it.  It all depends on him I suppose.  Zylle's mother is sort of based on my own:  loves to dance and hum and makes great cooking.  However, my mother isn't insane.  She's pretty realistic and practical.  Most of the time, she wonders whether I'm insane!

**WolfMoon:  **I guess this explains some more things to you, but who **she** is really is a mystery isn't it?  I know it's hard to remember everything.  My friend calls it CRS Syndrome (Can't Remember S*** Syndrome).  As you can tell, she has far too much time on her hands.  Thanks for reading.

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **Thanks for reading again.  I'm glad you liked the report and as you can tell:  Dr. Diamante definitely isn't the normal kind of doctor if he put that under his 'notes' section.  Dudley and Snape are coming next chapter!  

**awscool:  **This is getting more Harry/Nuitari-centric, so expect more from his view.  And this chapter certainly answered your last question:  he's now a part of the Hawking family.

**azntgr01:  **Thanks.  It is similar to the OWLs exam, isn't?  Except that there really wasn't much work involved during the test.  I wish all tests were like that.

**HarryMerlin:  **Thank you!  I'm glad to see that this chapter answered many of your questions.

**Lois Lane:  **Thanks for reading!

**Cataclysmic:  **I'm glad you liked Mirabelle and Sarah, but there are plenty more where that came from!  If you liked Sarah, wait 'til you meet Hans.  Yes, Zylle has adopted Harry!  Let's hope she gets home on time now.  Thanks for reading.

**Tropic:  **Thank you!

**Gunsmoke:  **Thanks for reading!

**WookieeBeta:  **Sorry, for leaving you at such a cliffhanger (I hate those things myself), but it did seem like the perfect place to stop.  Thanks for the compliment!  It really boosts my confidence, seeing that I write and edit everything myself.

**Elessar:  **Harry won't be found in quite a while due to many things happening at once preventing him:  like the Order, etc.  Beating up Death Eaters will come into play eventually.  

**Sinner's Angel:  **Thank you!  I'm glad you like this!

**Liedral:  **Next chapter, Vernon is going to finally meet the infamous Sirius Black, who will be extremely angry.  That should be interesting.  Romance won't come into this fic, but I'm happy to know that there are plenty of other Harry/Hermione fans out there.

**kento:  **Thank you for reading!  Remember that Harry does have his blocks.  But blocks can be broken, can't they?  Harry won't be getting back his memory anytime soon, but everything else that you want will be included here in Elemental Genesis.  Your written English is fine by the way.

**Hot-Angel:  **Thanks for all your compliments!  I'm sorry you don't like Harry's new name, but odd names are a given in the Hawking family.  Besides, Harry really had no choice in the matter.  Look at what Mirabelle called her poor cousin John!  You'll see that the odd name itself would make him recognized by other elementals because of that odd tradition.  I'll try to finish this, since I hate leaving things off and also I hate good fics that never make it to the end.

**Jordan:  **You'll be getting your wish for the Dudley-Snape conversation next chapter!  I think everyone feels bad for Sirius here.  You're right about the room thing.  I'm amazed you caught that bit of foreshadowing!

**Kalorna Enera:  **Thanks for all your compliments, I won't deny really appreciate them!  I was wondering at first whether I was focusing on the Dursleys too much, but I'm glad people don't seem to mind.  I hope you liked this chapter!

**fullsailnate:  **Thank you so much!  One of the best fanfics on the site?  I didn't think people would like it that much.  We will get glimpses of what goes on in the wizarding world and those chapters will be in great detail, but there will be very few of them.  This is mostly focusing on Harry/Nuitari.  He isn't going back to Hogwarts in a very long time, but he will find himself there eventually.

**wizardmon92:  **I hope you like this chapter!  Thanks for the compliment!

**GY:  **I'm glad you gave me such an in-depth review!  I just want to say that it's good to know pairings now, so later I can make my plans.  Romance won't come into this particular fic though.  Elemental Genesis will mainly be about as you said:  Harry's training and adjustment to his new life.  It also provides some foreshadowing to how the whole Voldemort issue came to be in the first place.  If I suddenly made a romance scene, that would be odd.  As I said before, Harry doesn't remember anything from before, so it would be sort of redundant.  I appreciate your opinion a lot and I'm happy to know that you're interested in this.

**GrimmyD:  **Thanks for reading and sure I'll continue.

**AlL roads LeAd To HeLl:  **I'm trying to make my chapters longer, since you requested it.  It may ruin my update schedule a bit, but I'll try.  Thanks for reading.

**Mystic Queen:  **Harry isn't getting back his memory for a long time.  It's good to know you like this story though.

**Fox the cave:  **Thanks for being a good sport about it and thanks for liking my fic.

**Zaz:  **Thanks!  It's good to know that you're interested.

**Queen Seta/Remmy the Insane:  **It's good to know that you still enjoy reading my story!  It's pronounced sort of like:  New-ih-tar-ee.  I was strongly reminded of Hermione teaching Viktor Krum how to say her name at the Yule Ball in Book 4 there.  Blame Mirabelle not me.  At least Zylle can relate to the poor kid's name since she has name troubles of her own.  I'm glad to know that you found this story cool.  You just did a Sarah there with you sambaing!

**crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  **Thanks for reading and reviewing again!  I'm happy to know you liked the last chapter.  I'm also happy you like Harry's new name.  Some people didn't, but as Harry didn't really choose it, it isn't his fault.  Harry isn't going to see Sirius and his friends in a long time and the same goes for his memory, but he will definitely see them again and he will remember his past in time.

**fanfictionfanatic:  **Thank you!

**David M. Potter:  **I'm glad to know that you're interested in this fic!  Harry and Sirius won't reunite in a long time and who knows what will happen between Sirius and Zylle.  I haven't planned that far ahead yet.  Good to know that there are other Harry/Hermione shippers out there.  But as I've said before:  romance isn't really going to come into the story.

**Lord Master Omega:  **Thanks for reading.

**Gold Silk:  **It does seem that way does it?  Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to use that power yet.

**purplefluffychainsaw:  **Thanks so much for adding me to your favorites!  The world that Harry's in isn't based on another book.  The elemental community is right there, but unlike wizards, they're better at hiding.  Besides, they do intermarry with muggles and have no real prejudice against them, so they figure it's okay.  The name of the land of the dead does come from the Chronicles of Prydain (fantastic series), but the descriptions are totally different.  Sirius is coming in next chapter along with our mad Vernon.  People have been waiting for this one!

**Giga Star:  **Judging from the response, I guess I have to continue this!  People would kill me if I didn't, I think.

**BookCrazy77:  **Thanks for thinking that!  I happen to hold the same sentiments towards Vernon as well.

**Savi2070:  **Thanks for your appreciative comments!  I hope you liked this chapter.

**Renee Fay:  **Vernon is a piece of cr*p, right?  I hated him since the first book, so I'm finally getting my revenge!  I would never EVER kill Sirius.  He is my absolute favorite character, followed closely by Harry, and it really upset me to find out he was the one who had to die.  I'm glad to know you like the names, but it is true:  they must be hard to live with.  I guess you can sympathize with Zylle over the crazy mothers bit.  Thanks for reading!

**Mira-chan:  **Thanks for telling me what you think.  That's a good question.  Yes, her name is hard to figure out how to say, and also spell, isn't it?  As she said before, it isn't good considering where she works.  Sarah is kind of nutters in a fun kind of way.  Her name is pronounced like "Zill".  You can imagine what flack she has to deal with over at the workplace because of that.  We should be thankful her last name is normal.


	10. Of Interrogations and Arguments

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Ten:  Of Interrogations and Arguments

            "-so I beat him.  It was his fault; he made everything bad, the freak.  I needed to punish him for all that he did."  Vernon Dursley's eyes were blank and he answered every single question obediently.  He had been taken under custody and was now being questioned under the truth potion, Veritaserum, about the abuse of one Harry Potter.  The interrogators:  the paranoid Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the levelheaded Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the seething former convict Sirius Black.  The last of the three mentioned was barely keeping his control.  His fists kept clenching and unclenching, as if wanted to pummel the life out of the man before him.  He was not the only one, though:  Moody's normal eye was twitching, which was not a good sign.  Also he kept reaching for his wand, only just stopping himself from grasping it and cursing the 'disgusting piece of filth'.  Shacklebolt looked appalled at what he was hearing, but needed to be calm so they could get all the information out of the muggle.  That was probably the reason he was chosen to be here in this dingy interrogation room, since Moody and Sirius had enough experience at this already.

            Shacklebolt asked, "What were Harry Potter's injuries the last time you saw him?"  The quill and parchment lying on the table between all of those present was writing every single statement or phrase that was made.  It was poised on its tip, ready to take notes.

            "I don't know.  Or care.  As long as he suffered, I was happy.  And he did, I made sure of that."

            "Why did you continue to hurt Harry Potter if he was already grievously, possibly fatally, injured?"

            "He didn't show any emotion.  Never screamed or cried, just looked at me.  I hurt him more, but he still didn't make a sound.  I wanted him to scream, but the freak didn't!"  Vernon's breathing rate was slowly, but steadily, increasing.  The interrogators weren't paying much attention to that, though.

            "What happened to Harry Potter's owl, Hedwig?"

            "Killed her.  He could've contacted the other freaks to get him.  So could Petunia, she was feeling pity for her freakish sister's son.  I needed to prevent that, so I strangled and burned it right in front of the freak's eyes.  He attacked me, but I still killed it.  Beat him even harder for daring to hurt me."

            _Control yourself.  Don't lose it, Black.  He might know where Harry is.  We need him alive.  Killing him won't help you or Harry._  However, it was difficult for Sirius to not just beat the pulp out of the muggle who made his godson go through so much pain after what happened at the Triwizard Tournament.  Shacklebolt, after checking that neither Sirius nor Moody were going to do anything drastic, continued with his questioning.  It looked like he was also having problems from letting his temper fly loose as well.  "Harry Potter disappeared from your household the night of July 28th.  How did he vanish?"

            "I don't know.  He did something freakish and then he was gone."

            "What do you know about Harry Potter's disappearance?"

            "A whirlwind appeared in the house and he was in the middle of it.  He was most likely the cause of it, too.  When it was gone, so was he.  I tried to run."

            "Why did you attempt to run?"

            "To get away from the Blue Eyes.  A shadow woman with blue eyes, he brought her!  Blasted freak cursed me!  She stares at me, hating me, wanting me dead.  They have the same look."  Vernon's breaths came in sharp gasps and he was sweating profusely.  His brown eyes lost their blank look and became dilated.  Beads of sweat were fast forming on his head.  He shouted at them, "I hope he's dead!"  He then started to laugh hysterically.

            Sirius had enough.  Jumping out of his seat, he punched Vernon hard in the face.  He would have done more, but Moody and Shacklebolt grasped both of his arms and were holding him back.  But the insane fool continued to cackle maniacally, seeming not to notice the furious man being restrained from beating him to his own death.

            "I can't believe this is happening."  Remus Lupin said this to Severus Snape as they sat gazing at the dying embers of the fire.  Number 12 Grimmauld Place had been full of mayhem since Snape had returned from Privet Drive without Harry.  The ministry had been informed, but word of Harry's disappearance had not reached the ears of the press yet.

            "As much as we don't want to think it is, it's happening.  Don't blind yourself to the truth," tersely replied Snape.  He was his usual condescending, uncomforting self.

            Remus glared at him, gold-brown wolf eyes glinting dangerously.  "You don't even care that Harry's out there, possibly dying, do you?"

            "Yes, I have some pity and concern for Potter's well-being, but unlike some people," he returned with veiled anger.  "I'm not letting it get to me.  For one thing, brooding won't help the boy out and secondly, you don't risk your life going to Death Eater meetings."

            "How can you be such a cold-hearted git?!"

            "I am not being 'cold-hearted' as you say, Lupin, so keep your temper.  I believe it's called 'rational thinking'.  The only people acting worse than you are Black, Granger, and the Weasleys.  Running around without thinking won't get us anywhere."

            "I believe that you should pay attention to what Severus says, Remus.  He does have the right idea in mind."  Dumbledore, looking especially old and wizened in the dim firelight, tiredly walked into the room.  He practically collapsed in an armchair in between the two younger men.  "There's been nothing.  The Dursleys don't know anything."

            Snape's smug smirk at being complimented by Dumbledore was wiped off his face.  "What do you mean?  According to Potter's cousin, the uncle was right there when he vanished."

            "Mr. Dursley, under interrogation by Veritaserum, said that he didn't know what happened.  He said that all of the sudden there was a whirlwind with Harry at the center of it.  When it was gone, so was Harry."

            Remus asked, "Wouldn't that qualify as accidental magic?  Surely, that would have registered on the Ministry sensors.  If what he says is true and there was a whirlwind, then something must have picked up a magic signal THAT big."

            "I checked.  Absolutely nothing turned up.  I know it sounds impossible, but it's true."

Dumbledore sighed.  It suddenly occurred to Snape that though Dumbledore was incredible and wise, even he was human.  Humans make mistakes.

            "He may have been lying.  The potion could have been flawed," said Remus.  It was obvious by the werewolf's tone of voice that he was just grasping at straws.

            Snape was still offended.  "Are you, Lupin, implying that my potions are defective?"

            "Calm down, gentlemen!"  Dumbledore didn't need a fight to break out; they had enough to worry about.  "Severus, did Harry's cousin tell you anything else?"

            "Well, he did say something extremely odd…he said he knew that Potter, wherever he was, was okay…" _I'm not going to forget that conversation anytime soon._

()()()()()()()

            Snape was waiting for a full ten minutes before Potter's cousin (_Was it Dudley?)_ showed up at their agreed meeting place.  He was annoyed at the boy's tardiness.  The park was deserted and looked pretty run down.  It was also concealed from view by a great deal of trees.  No one in his or her right mind would come here.  Nevertheless, he set up silencing charms to prevent eavesdropping.  One never knew who was listing.  Granted, he was scowling spectacularly when Dudley arrived.  "You arranged the meeting place, so I expected you NOT to be late!"

            "It took me longer than I thought, alright!  My father wanted a whole description of you."

            "Description?"

            "Let's just say that you're now a small pushy man with a stutter wearing suspenders and a boater's hat, going door-to-door selling poor quality brushes."  Dudley seemed mildly amused by this.

            _I'm not paid enough for this._  "Well, despite the fact that I'm going to **kill** Potter when I see him because of this, where is he?"  Seeing the teen's face turn resolutely set against saying anything, he sighed in frustration.  "I was only joking.  I'd probably just give him fifty detentions."

            The adolescent stood up straighter.  Obviously, the technique he used to scare so many of his wizarding students wasn't daunting this muggle.  _Okay, I've got to give more credit for to their kind for nerve, I guess._  Dudley then said, "I hope you are, I'm not sending my cousin to someplace where he could get hurt even more.  If I could anyway."

            There were many things wrong with that sentence.  "What do you mean 'where he could get hurt anymore'?  Also care to explain what you mean by 'if I could'?"

            "That's it.  He's gone."

            "What?!"  _Isn't this just a pretty kettle of fish?! _

"Harry's been missing since the night of July 28th.  Not to mention he was in pretty bad shape."

            _Potter's gone!  He would make this difficult, the brat.  Wait a minute_.    "Enlighten me on how he got to be in 'bad shape', Mr. Dursley."

            "My father," Dudley answered.  "He doesn't like magic or wizards at all.  He thinks it's unnatural.  Combine that with all the bad things that have happened over the past year-"

            "I get the idea." _ The press is going to have a field day._  "What did Potter do?"

            The boy did some serious thinking.  "Since I really didn't see him, I'm not all too sure. But my mother said that he had seemed to have given up on everything."

            "Typical Potter."

            "Are you saying my cousin is weak?!"  Apparently, Dudley Dursley didn't want to hear that coming from a person who was supposed to help.  "He's been through a whole lot, but still remained a good person, when a majority of people would have become nothing more than uncaring trash!  You've seen what he's done, tell me that he's a coward!"

            Snape took a few surprised steps back at this angry outburst.  Then he regained his self-composure when he realized that a _muggle_ was yelling at him.  "How dare you raise your voice at me…"

            'I **dare** because I don't care that you're a wizard.  Just because you have magic DOESN'T MEAN I'M SCARED OF YOU!"  His blue eyes were blazing with rage as he roared this at the shocked potions master.

()()()()()()()

            "My estimation of muggles has gone up quite bit after that," commented Snape lightly.  "But I still dislike them."

            Dumbledore nodded while Remus held his head in his hands.  _That's right.  Hide yourself from the collapsing world.  That'll help Potter._  "You said that after he told you everything he knew about what happened, he said that he was sure that Harry was alright and safe."

            "Right, Headmaster.  He said something about a 'Shadow Goddess' watching over Potter.  The cousin thought that whoever this was helped him out of the house.  I really don't know what to think about that."

            A small smile formed on the elder wizard's face.  "Truly?  Here I thought you would just dismiss that as nothing."

            _It is unlike me, isn't it?_  "Potter's cousin said he was dying from a heart condition while this was all happening.  He couldn't even leave his bed."

            "That doesn't make sense," came the muffled response from Remus.  "If he was bed-ridden and dying, what was he doing up talking to you?"

            "Glad you're joining the conversation, Lupin," sneered Snape, but he stopped his baiting because of a stern look from Dumbledore.  "That 'Shadow Goddess' gave him a second chance at life, he said, as well as promising Potter's well-being.  He described her as a woman made up entirely of shadows and darkness, with striking blue eyes."

            Dumbledore looked extremely intrigued by this.  "Those were his exact words?"

            "Yes.  Most likely it is some ridiculous notion of the boy's.  I'm sorry I brought it up."

            "It is alright, Severus, but this interests me.  I have a copy of the report from the interrogation of Vernon Dursley.  He said the 'Blue Eyes' followed him and that Harry brought her upon him.  The description of father and son were the same:  a shadow woman with blue eyes.  I don't think it is coincidence, since we do know that Harry is alive."

            Remus' head shot up from his scrutiny of the aged carpet.  "How do you-'

            Dumbledore held up a small green crystal in his wrinkled hand.  It had a light within it, burning strong.  "James and Lily created this for Harry before they died.  This is a maryoku crystal and they are both extremely rare and difficult to create.  It is like a status signal for a wizard, in this case Harry's.  As you can see the light inside is bright.  That indicates that Harry is alive and relatively well.  It could also track him-"

            "What are we waiting for then?!"  Remus sprang out of his seat in his excitement.  "Let's use it to find him!"

            "I thought the same thing when I remembered this was in the Potter vault.  However," Dumbledore continued, examining the small gem.  "Something is preventing it from doing so.  I don't know why that is happening, maryoku crystals are tamperproof."

            Snape contemplated the fire.  "You're kidding.  I know maryoku crystals can't be changed to reflect something else.  It's imposs-"

            "Severus, know that there are other magicks out there and never overlook them.  Be aware that greater beings than we humans watch over our short lives.  Grandson, be careful in your life for demons walk among us and live within our very hearts…"

            "What was that, Severus?"

            "What?"  Snape looked sharply at the headmaster, who was observing him with curiosity evident in his eyes.

            "What did you say?  About magicks, greater beings, demons, and such?"

            "Oh."  He hated being caught like this.  _Did I really say that out loud?  Apparently._  'They were my grandmother's last words before she died.  I…I don't know where that came from.  She died years ago."

            What Severus Snape didn't like about this was the feeling of hidden meaning beneath his grandmother's last words.  There was more to what she said to him on her deathbed when he was six, but he couldn't recall them straight away.

            "Do you think Harry's alright, Ron?"  Hermione was looking worriedly out the window, as though her missing friend would suddenly appear outside on their doorstep.

            Ron, lying on his back on his bed and staring blankly at the ceiling, started at her question.  They had been in silence, lost in their own thoughts, for quite a while.  "I'm sure he is, Hermione.  He does have the devil's own luck.  Harry's the Boy-Who-Lived, he'll come back."

            This didn't calm the intelligent witch at all.  "I hope so.  It is awful knowing what happened to him.  And we couldn't do anything to help him."

            "I know.  Sirius is taking it pretty hard and so is Remus.  They really had their hopes up."

            "Ginny is still crying?"

            "Yep.  It doesn't look like she's going to stop soon either.  Do you think that You-Know-Who is behind all this?"

            "No.  Professor Snape would have let us know if he were.  Also Voldemort would have told everyone by now if he did.  He'd flaunt that he had the savior of the wizarding world in his hands."

            Ron looked at her, horrified.  He hissed, "You said **his** name!"

            Hermione turned him, her expression determined.  "I know and I'll say it again if I have to.  Harry was afraid to and then neither will I.  We have to be strong.  For his sake."

            "What do you mean he's gone?!"

            Voldemort visibly trembled under the wrathful ire of the deity.  He could dimly see her image in the seeing pool she used to communicate with him.  The glassy surface had a disconcerting red tint to it.  "My lady, I am sorry.  But Potter isn't really a threat to our plan so it is no matter."

            The next thing he knew he was thrown violently into the chamber's stone wall.  "Silence, fool!  As long as Potter exists he is a risk to our plans and though Riddle has been incapacitated, so is he!"

            "I'm sorry, Lady.  I wasn't thinking."

            "No, you weren't!  If you don't shape up, we'll never open the Dark Gateway of Tartarus!"

            "Yes, of course, Lady.  Forgive me."

            "By opening the Dark Gateway, I'll finally be able to exact my revenge.  Potter's disappearance is important.  It means that Melania is back and trying to stop me.  We must tread cautiously."

            "But Lady, what can Melania do?  She is just the goddess of darkness.  Heaven will not take her side if she goes against your greatness."

            "Not necessarily.  Melania has much more influence over matters concerning the immortals than you think.  But attacking openly now would only work to her disadvantage.  That is why she's doing so indirectly.  Both Tom Riddle and Harry Potter are the keys to her victory and our defeat, so she will make sure that they aren't harmed.  The fact that she cares for them deeply gives them even greater defenses."  She paused.  "I must go.  Remember to keep your demon identity a secret.  Those Death Eaters would leave you immediately if they found out.  That would not be good for our plans."

            "Of course, Lady."

            "Don't fail me again, Voldemort.  What I give I can take away just as quickly."  The image vanished from the seeing pool.  The demon fell to his knees when he was sure that she was gone.  She was always difficult to deal with.

***

Thanks for reading and please review.  I'm sorry I didn't update on the 2nd!  I hope you forgive me.  I hate not accomplishing things I feel need to be done.  

Too bad that Moody and Shacklebolt were there, and then Sirius probably would've killed Vernon.  Dumbledore probably foresaw that and that's why they were there to begin with.  As you can see this hit Remus and Sirius pretty hard.  They promised to take care of Harry and look what happens.  The Weasleys and Hermione are not doing so well either.  Wait until the Daily Prophet comes in.  What Severus' grandmother said is very important as well as who she is.  

We also get a glimpse of who is actually pulling the strings on the whole Voldemort situation.  Melania and Thanatos referred to her as '**she**' or '**her**' in Chapter Nine.  Voldemort is pretty scared of her, huh?  The Dark Gateway is why Tartarus is so important in the storyline.  And **she** knows that both Tom and Harry can stop her.  But Melania prevented her from getting Harry and though she couldn't save Tom's body, she saved his soul.

Next chapter might be up by Monday, August 4th.  As I said before:  no guarantees since I'm writing longer chapters.  I hope I do manage it though.  It should be about Harry, Zylle, Number 14 Zephyrus Court, and the most exhausting sport in the world:  shopping.  A vampire will feature here, a very fashion-savvy one.  Wish me luck!

-Raven Dragonclaw

Reviewers:

**visbond:  **Thank you.

**GrimmyD:  **Thanks for reading!

**Slim:  **Thanks.

**Christina:  **I'm glad that you enjoy the story so much!

**Wolfmoon:  **Thanks for reading!  You're my 100th reviewer!  Kudos!  We get a quick look at Tartarus while we're here and rest assured, the Dark Gateway is very important.  There's a reason why Melania (the Dark Lady) does not want that thing open.  Needless to say, it's good one.  I chose it for both its meanings actually.  In Greek myth, Tartarus was the lowest level of the underworld and where all the souls of the wicked ended up.  These souls were to be forever tortured endlessly for their crimes.  It was a plus that it meant "Hell" in Latin, too.  I hoped you liked this chapter!

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **I'm sorry that confused you.  What happened was the Melania (the Dark Lady) had closed the doors to her castle because she was out helping Harry in the mortal realm.  The souls that needed to be judged were waiting outside.  She needed to get back to work.  Black Wolf is the annoying voice of reason and as a statue stuck to a banister:  he gets bored.  He was in a high position in Tartarus before Erebus, Melania's father, got annoyed with him and tried to destroy him.  Nyx, Melania's mother, saved the statue and gave him to her.  That's why Black Wolf holds 'Lady Nyx' in such high regard.  Thanatos is Melania's older brother, otherwise known as the Grim Reaper.  He's Death, but he likes to have fun.  The reapers are his underlings.  Even Death needs help.  I hoped that helped you.  Harry might get over his blocks.  It all depends on his training.  I hoped you enjoyed this chapter!

**Zaz:  **Thanks for reading!  Glad to know you liked it.

**Prd2bAmerican18:  **Thank you!

**maria rosenfire:  **Don't worry, I'm not offended!  Constructive criticism is a good thing.  The plot does seem disjointed, but everything fits together.  It's just that we're skimming the surface of the plot.  Thanks for reviewing and telling me it's overall good, though!

**Unclear-Destiny:  **I doubt I'm as good as a professional writer, but thank you nonetheless!  I'm glad the grammar is okay in this:  I've never paid much attention to it in my boring English class.  But grammar is important in a story:  I'll have to agree with you there.  More characters are going to be introduced, A LOT of them!  I'm glad you like the names, even if they are sort of weird.  Thanks for reading and I'm happy to know that you love the story!

**azntgr01:  **Thanks for reading!  I haven't taken the SATs yet, but my brother has.  He said they're horrible and considering that he usually finds tests easy, I believe him.  Harry will get more difficult tests though i.e. through Sarah (be afraid here) and also when he goes to school (which is going to pretty far off, but he's going to school in Grey Tower).

**Temporary Insanity:  **I'm trying to make the chapters longer since things are becoming more complicated.  I put the different points of view together, so that we get a well-rounded view of what's going on in the minds of several people at the same time.  It is cliché, but though Harry has the potential to use all the elements at a high level, he has several blocks that prevent him from doing so.  I wasn't trying to make a Gary Stu.  Harry does have his faults and his powers are limited in certain ways, but we haven't seen these limitations yet.  It's good to know that you like the story and the plot, though.

**fanfictionfanatic:  **Thanks for reviewing again!  I'm glad to know that the chapter was cool.

**Queen Seta/Remmy the Insane:  **My name is also normal (well, sort of.  It's not spelled in the conventional way), but my mother did this because she has a very weird first name of her own.  My mother, being very practical, hates this so gave me a normal name.  I'm glad to know that you agree with me on the romance tangent.  Thanks for reviewing!

**Liedral:  **I included that in for a reason.  It amused me to think that there would be someone who keeps getting killed in every lifetime by his vengeful wife's soul.  This was to show that the reapers were going to be important to this.  Such as Annie Kentworth, the blonde reaper we saw.  As we will soon see, life in Number 14 Zephyrus Court is very chaotic, but Zylle will be happy that Harry's there.

**Savi2070:  **That is one of the reasons I like to update fast.  I know of several good fics that haven't updated in a long time (one in over a year!) and I don't want that to happen to Elemental Genesis.  Thanks for reading and it's good to know you liked the chapter!

**Tanya Dinocrisis01:  **Thanks!

**fullsailnate:  **Thanks for your compliments!  It does wonder for my self-esteem.  And my self-esteem is what keeps this fic going.  I'm glad to know you like the plot and the characters.  Since there are going to be many new characters, it's good to know the few I've introduced are okay.  I'm happy to answer your questions!  Thanks keep up with this!

**Arsenal:  **Thanks for reading!  Yes, Vernon has cracked and now current events are probably not helping him any.  Too much detail can be as disastrous as not enough, so it's good to hear that.  To answer the question that you asked in your e-mail, Harry isn't in another reality.  The elemental community was as you said, cut off from the wizarding and muggle worlds.  But they might see more of a connection between muggles, since intermarriage between them is a common thing.  I hope that answered your question.  Thank you for reading and for giving me your input.  It's good to know I have a fan!

**Wytil:  **I've hated that exact thing with how JKR described it as well.  That's why we see elemental magic here, but that is also limited in some ways.  Remember what Severus' grandmother said about different kinds of magic:  there are also other kinds than elemental.  They'll come in later though.  Training is bound to be alternately intense and funny, since Harry is largely inexperienced, Zylle is very tough, and Sarah is Sarah.  That is a wonderful song to go with 2 level 6 Wind elementals!

**gaul:  **Good to know that your previous questions were answered and as you can see, the Death Eaters don't know that Voldemort is a demon.  His plans would be ruined without them so he's keeping them in the dark.  I'm glad to know that you liked the chapter.

**Kalorna Enera:  **I'm sorry if the conversation confused you, but it's good to know that you got the main idea of it.  I was unsure if people would find that part funny, but I'm happy that you did.  It's to show that not everything is serious and grim around the deities, especially with Death.  Don't you just wish that Moody and Shacklebolt weren't there?  But at least he got a good hit there.

**Jordan:  **I'm sorry to say that Harry isn't related to any of the elemental clans.  He did get his power though from a very important relative.  If you look back on Chapter Three, you notice that Tom says he and Harry are distantly related.  It is this relative who is the one who has that power and they come in later.  You're right again!  Like Black Wolf, Hedwig was once "White Owl", part of the Throne of Tartarus.  But since she didn't annoy the Dark Lady's father, he turned her into an animal.  Thanks for reading!  

**crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  **I'm glad to know that you like the story!  I don't mind questions; it just shows that you're interested!  I hope you like this chapter

**Sophie W:**  Thanks for reviewing and I'll try to update soon!

**Gyr:  **Thanks for reading and I'm glad to know that you like my story.  Dudley knows that his father was beating Harry and he was in pretty bad shape from his mother and deducing it on his own.  About Harry disappearing in the whirlwind, he learned that from Petunia.  Basically, Petunia tried to sugarcoat the situation so Dudley wouldn't be so upset, but in the end he knew what was happening by reading in-between the lines.  Snape will lose the image of Harry's perfect home-life and show some pity, but not a lot.  He will still dislike Harry.  

The fact that everyone is reincarnated is extremely important.  Though it does give us some insight into the afterlife, the unfulfilled destinies will affect Harry.  I'm happy to know that you enjoy the Brian Jennings scene.  That scene was also to hint on how the reapers, like Annie Kentworth, will be important.

You're right when you guessed that the elements are semi-sentient.  Part of the element is controlled by the elemental and connected to them, but a part of it still remains tied to nature.  At certain times, an elemental would not be able to call on their power at all.  The sentient part of it would immediately halt any attempt at control if it felt that the elemental was doing something wrong.  However, they don't have favorites.  Sarah and Zylle will further explain this next chapter and when Harry's training begins.  I know it seems sort of troublesome, which is why Harry tried to sway Mirabelle to a different name.  Night will be his nickname here, but his formal name on papers would be Nuitari Hawking.  Thanks for telling me my names were appropriate; I was sort of worried about that.

**B0B:  **Thanks for showing interest in this story! 

**Ankalagon:  **I didn't know I had fans!  I'll try not to keep them waiting.

**Mira-chan:  **Thanks for reading again!  Don't worry about it, we all forget.  The clan names are Japanese (I hope my dictionary is correct on the meanings, it'd be embarrassing if it weren't).  These are the meanings.  Arashi-Tenku=Storm, Sky.    Kiri-Kaminari=Mist, Thunder.    Eikou-Taiyou=Glorious, Sun.    Seijaku-Shinrin=Silent, Forest    Rekka-Ki=Wildfire, Spirit.  

There are other clans in England, but they aren't important to the story at the moment.  I hoped that answered your question.  

**Tropic:  **Thanks for reading and reviewing again.

**Renee Fay:  **I'm glad you liked the part about Brian Jennings (yes, you had his name right).  I was thinking about making a little story about what's been happening to him, but I'm not sure whether to do it or not.  Don't worry, Sirius is staying and not leaving!  I love Padfoot and it upset me deeply when JK killed him off.  But rest assured, he's staying alive in this!  We get to see much more of Sarah next chapter and we will also meet the crazy neighbor, Hans!


	11. Finally Home But After Shopping

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Eleven:  Finally Home But After Shopping

            Nuitari greeted the outside with a wide smile, but suppressed the urge to just run off blindly.  Dr. Annie said he had to take it easy.  Though he had more or less completely healed, the doctor was not taking any chances.  Zylle was told that his weight was still low and to make sure that he put on some pounds.  Also, she was ordered not to start on anything too difficult when she started to train him.  She assured him that she wouldn't start training in at least four days.  "Besides," she had said.  "He needs to get used to everything first."

            He had to admit that she was right; all this would take a while to absorb.  Five days ago, he had just awoken out of a coma without any memory of his identity or past in a world that was hidden from wizarding society and relatively from the muggles.  Mirabelle had told him that they had more of a connection to the muggle world since many elementals married muggles and they used their technology quite often.  Nuitari didn't feel all that apprehensive at the moment.  _Probably because I know the Lady is watching over me._  True, he was slightly concerned about his memory loss, but that was in the back of his mind right now.  All that mattered right now was the open blue sky, the summer birds singing their joyful melodies, the sunshine pouring down on his face, and the feeling of standing on his own two legs.  Hedwig was clearly enjoying this freedom as well.  As soon as they had stepped outside, the owl left his shoulder to soar in the wide blue expanse.  He laughed at her happiness.

            Zylle walked out of the hospital after him, detained for a few words with Dr. Annie.  Looking up at what he was amused at, she joined in his laughter.  Contrary to what he had seen her wearing on previous occasions, she wore fitted blue jeans and a bright green tank top, a white loose peasant top thrown over it.  She also sported plain white sneakers.  He guessed this was what she wore when she wasn't working:  she had taken the day off to pick him up from the hospital.  She looked down at him, "I guess you're both happy to be out of there, aren't you?"

            "Don't get me wrong or anything," he stammered, thinking she thought he disliked being at Grey Tower Sanctuary.  "The hospital was nice and everything-"

            "Don't worry about it!  I'm pretty sure you were bored out of your mind.  Speaking from the voice of experience here, I once spent a full month here."

            Zylle and Nuitari started to walk down the hill the hospital was situated on.  Hedwig flying in the sky, doing her appointed job as protector by keeping close by.  _She really takes this job as my spirit guardian seriously._  Wispy elm trees that lined the path blocked out the sun.  How he loved to be outside.  He asked the adult, "How did you get stuck in the hospital for a month?"

            "An upstart clan from the south of here began causing trouble.  When they dared to attempt to go into the Eastern Starlands, we had to do something.  We beat them, but I got badly hit by an earthquake.  To make matters worse, I was right next to a house with a very unstable foundation.  You can imagine what happened."

            "Ouch."

            "It did hurt a lot, but I got over it.  What I couldn't stand was my mother.  Even now she says to me 'be careful of earthquakes!'But my mother's completely mad, so I'm used to it."

            "What are the Eastern Starlands?"  _What was this place that the elemental clans had to stop these people from entering them?  How were they special?_

            "You know that there are five elemental clans around here, right?"  She had stiffened in what seemed to be anxiety.  

            "Yeah, Mirabelle told me.  We're from the Arashi-Tenku Dragons."

            Zylle visibly relaxed.  "Good, I won't have to explain as much then.  Fifty years ago, there was a huge war and it involved both the elemental communities and the wizarding world.  We still kept ourselves secret from them, though.  Elementals that sided with the Dark Lord Adlar Grindelwald were called 'Phantom Elementals'.  The 'Shining Elementals' fought against them.  There were many more clans around here, but only six went against Grindelwald.  At the end of the war, only five clans remained."

            "Only six?"  He couldn't believe only six would stand to such an evil power.  _Do people want power so much that they would become evil just to attain it?_

            "Many believed that Grindelwald would help them bypass the sentient side of the elements.  We aren't in full control of the power, you know.  Part of it is tied to nature, the other to us.  You'll learn more about it soon.  Anyway, the 'Shining' side won the war, but as I said before, only five clans remained out of the six."

            "What happened to the sixth?"  This had him interested.

            "The Sekai-Kage Wolves were completely decimated," she paused and closed her eyes in a reverent way here.  "Their expertise was spying, infiltration, and assassination.  Many were killed by the Phantoms for being double-agents."

            "Oh."  Now he understood why Zylle seemed so respectful of them.  They were willing to put their lives at risk to serve justice.  "There's no one left of them?"

            "Only one person survived and that was their leader.  Mirage Searle, the Black Wolf, had disappeared to who knows where when it was all over.  Mum is a better source on this since she lived through the times.  The Eastern Starlands were the Wolves' territory.  No one lives there and charms have been set up to prevent other people from buying the houses.  It's the least we could have done, they didn't give up their lives for nothing."

            "Will I ever see the Starlands?"

            "Sure," she said.  "Actually, you will most likely see them anyway if you wander around town.  People who are lost invariably end up there."  She grinned at him.  "A person can't call themselves an elemental without once visiting the Starlands.  They say it's haunted there."

            "Do you believe that?"

            "Yes."  They turned onto an avenue to what appeared to Nuitari, filled with people.  Those people had seemed happy enough, but they all stopped when they saw them.  Nuitari distinctly heard Zylle mutter scornfully, "I hate passing through Rekka-Ki territory."

            _So, these are the Rekka-Ki Chimeras.  Mirabelle did say that there was a rivalry between them and the Arashi-Tenku.  I guess that's why they're reacting this way towards Zylle and me._  Zylle just took a deep breath and motioned for him to follow her.  Thus, they walked down the silent lane.  He tried to ignore the many eyes following the, but he couldn't help being conscious of their stares.  As soon as the left the street, activity resumed again.  Confused, he asked, "What was that about?  I know there's a rivalry between them and us, but it didn't look like it."

            "That?  Oh, don't think much about it," Zylle said while scowling.  "Yes, there is a rivalry, but we tend not to show it like that.  We get along most of the time.  Many of those people back there were Crowleys, a prominent family in that clan.  That was just against me.  I'll just say that David Crowley is a huge git and leave it at that."  Nuitari knew he wasn't going to get anything more out of her.  He was distracted when he realized where they were.

            "We're out of Grey Tower?"

            "Yep.  And I think it's about time I introduce you to the most difficult of all sports."  He waited excitedly.  _Good, we start training!_  She finished with a smirk, "Shopping."

            "What?!"

            "We're going shopping.  You do need some clothes, you can't possibly wear those everyday."  She was right, he had no clothing to call his own.  Callie Diamante, Dr. Annie's wife, had generously donated the t-shirt, shoes, and jeans he was wearing.  They were old castoffs of Markus Diamante, Mirabelle's second eldest brother and future doctor.  Nuitari was grateful, but Zylle had a point:  he couldn't wear them forever.

            "So we're going to London."

            "Right, but first we need to get one of my good friends.  She's a lot better at this sort of thing than I am."

            Nuitari busied himself by looking at the pictures on the wall of the lobby.  They were of upcoming designs that the company was going to be making.  He was no expert on fashion.  _But what are these people thinking?_  He and Zylle had walked into this large building to find that said friend who would help them.  Zylle had obviously been here before since the plentiful security guards let them through.  This company – Zenith Fashions – seemed pretty big.  While now looking out the large plate-glass window, he heard a pleasant female voice exclaim, "Why, Zylle!  I certainly didn't expect you to be here!"  Turning around, he saw an amazingly beautiful woman walk into the room.  _Wow.  Is she a model or something?_  The mystery woman had wavy blood-red hair and welcoming light blue eyes.  Her clothing, lavender capris and a tight pale green t-shirt, left nothing to the imagination.  After embracing Zylle like a sister, she noticed him.  "And who is this handsome young man?"

            Nuitari was struck momentarily speechless.  Zylle saved him the trouble.  "This is the boy I was telling you about.  Nuitari, this is Mirai Alucard.  She's the Red Dragon leader of our clan."

            _Then she's the third most powerful in the clan._  She smiled widely.  "Nice to finally meet you.  You must be something to make Zylle adopt you.  My old friend here rarely does anything impulsive.  You have an odd name, though."

            He sighed.  He had the distinct feeling that was going to happen quite a lot.  "Yeah.  Mirabelle gave it to me."

            "Humph.  You're lucky.  She's nicknamed people far worse things.  She calls her brother Markus everyday by the title of 'Emperor Marcus Aurelius'. It really annoys him."

            "Marcus Aurelius?"  _And I thought I had it bad.  Wait, there's also that poor guy, Bubba.  _

            "Yep.  I'll call you 'Night', I suppose.  'Nuit' is French for that."

            Zylle interjected with, "You're right that is easier.  I didn't know about that."

            "You didn't take French in school."

            Smiling at Nuitari, she explained, "My mother mostly speaks Spanish when she talks in a different language, which is why I learned it.  This vampire thought that French was classier."

            He looked at Mirai with new fear.  "You're a vampire?!"

            "Keep it down!"  She looked around hastily.  "I don't want people knowing.  People can be so prejudiced against us dark creatures."  Ignoring Nuitari's stunned look, she next asked Zylle, "What did you want to see me for?  I'm kind of busy."

            "Do you feel like going shopping?"

            "Let me get my purse."

            He collapsed into the outdoor café's plastic chair in exhaustion.  _She wasn't kidding about this being hard._  Zylle sat down in a similar fashion.  Mirai, however, was as perky as if she had just drunk twenty coffees.  Already she was discussing the next store they should hit.  He was amazed she had that much energy.  And even more incredible about that was the fact that she was in full sunlight.  When he inquired about this earlier, she credited it to her elemental ability.  "I'm a fire elemental.  The sun is a star and a star is a flaming sphere of gas.  Therefore it doesn't hurt me.  I'm happy about that.  Unlike other vampires, I don't have to be nocturnal."  In his opinion, they had been all over London.  But Mirai still wasn't done.  Neither was Zylle, but she had entirely different reasons.

            The first place they went to was the optometrist.  He has stopped wearing his old glasses completely since every time he put them on, a pain throbbed just behind his eyes.  _Dr. Annie said that the potions they used to heal me fixed my eyes slightly and that the glasses were far too strong now._  They had tried on several frames before settling for thin silver wire ones.  _Good, I didn't think I could wear those awful huge red ones.  Thank the winds they were joking._  Zylle had even let him buy some contact lenses.  "Trust me, we have a lot to spend, so it's nothing," she had told him flippantly.  Apparently, the London Broadcasting Network paid her a lot and there were riches saved in the bank.  He opted for a different color than his natural green:  a warm gray similar to Zylle's own.  At four o'clock, they would pick up both the lenses and the glasses.  Nuitari was thankful of that; he didn't like everything being blurred at the edges.

            Then they hit the clothing stores.  _I've learned more about sales and 'accessorizing' than I ever wanted to know._  According to Mirai – who must have good fashion sense since she was an administrator to as major a line as Zenith Fashions Incorporated – he looked best in colors that were dark and bold.  Zylle had sarcastically replied, "That's good, he matches my décor."  They had bought several sets of button-up shirts in deep reds, dark greens, royal blues, black, as well as a few white.  The color scheme lightened when they got to t-shirts, mainly either light or bright.  Zylle insisted on a few tank tops ("Why?!  They're not in style, Zylle!"      "Your point?  He'll need them and that's that.")  He was also encouraged to purchase some fighting gloves, being told that they would come in useful.  _For what, I guess I'll know soon._  Within moments, Nuitari possessed quite a few jeans in black and varying shades of blue.  Also, at Mirai's prodding, they had bought some slacks and a few khakis.

            They had spent a while in the shoe store.  It wasn't his fault.  Out of the ten pairs of shoes that came out of there, only three pairs belonged to him:  sneakers, boots, and dress shoes.  Of the remaining seven, five went to Mirai and two for Zylle.  The fact that they had to be extremely picky about which ones they chose didn't help.  

            They were finally taking a break.  It was 3:45, so they had a few minutes before picking up his glasses and contacts.  Mirai ordered a fruit salad and a glass of water.  Zylle evidently didn't share Mirai's taste in snacks and like Nuitari, had a huge banana split complete with toppings and essential cherry.  Mirai looked disapprovingly at the both of them.  "Honestly, how can you eat that junk food?!  Especially you, Zylle!  You're being a bad influence of Night."

            Zylle made a face, but Nuitari beamed at the vampire.  "Dr. Annie says I need to put on weight."

            "I doubt he meant through ice cream."

            Waving her spoon in the air, Zylle teased, "Don't bother, Night.  She's just jealous because as a fashion icon, she can't eat this stuff."

            "I swear I should see you more often.  You sounded so much like Vinny."

            "Really?"  Zylle seemed amused by this.

            "Well, not exactly.  You didn't have the icy tone."

            "Ah," Zylle concluded.  "Can't be like Vinny without the icy, condescending tone."  The two laughed at this.  Obviously, it was a well-known joke between them.  He wanted to be let in on it.  No one likes to be left out of a good joke.

            "Who's 'Vinny'?"

            Mirai made a dismissing gesture with her hands, glossy long purple fingernails catching some light.  "It's our nickname for our good friend, Lavinia Coulter.  She's the Blue Dragon and is a water elemental, mostly specializing in ice attacks."

            "Yeah and she's tough alright," Zylle added.  "Nearly beat me in our tournament years ago."

            With a sly grin, Mirai said to him, "You wouldn't believe how much they hated each other before that!  Now, though, they're friends.  Vinny is relatively more social now.  As much as she could be anyway."

            Zylle chuckled here.  "You're kidding, ask her students."  Turning to him, she said, "Vinny is one of the chemistry teachers at Grey Tower High.  It's said that the students scream at the slightest mention of 'Professor Coulter'.  I find it rather funny."

            Nuitari laughed along with the two women, though at the same time he was wondering whether he should be afraid this Lavinia Coulter.  

            "I can see!  Yes!  Finally," exclaimed Nuitari as they meandered down Storm Alleyway.  It was a quaint street of Tudor-style houses in the Arashi-Tenku territory of Grey Tower Town.  Mirai had left them to return to her office at Zenith, while Zylle used a whirlwind to transport them both back to town.  She wanted to get home fast.  Her reasons:  it was getting late, they had a lot of bags to carry, and she didn't trust her mother Sarah on her own too long.  He had wondered at this.  "Why?  Is she sick or something?"

            "Hardly," she replied.  "She maybe seventy-two, but she far from acts it.  I'd be careful if I were you."

            Two girls, probably around eight and ten, with dark red hair played a game of tag in the middle of the street.  They did stop, though, to say hello to Zylle before returning to their pastime.  Making a left onto Zephyrus Court. Zylle answered his unspoken question, "They are Phyllis and Caroline Ravencroft.  Their family has been a part of our clan for centuries."

            "Like the Diamantes of the Kiri-Kaminari?"  
            "Exactly.  In our clan, the main old families are:  the Hawkings, the Ravencrofts, the Smythes, the Rowans, and the Bradleys.  You might meet a few of the kids.  There are a few around your age.  And here we are:  Number 14 Zephyrus Court."

            Nuitari looked up at the large house and said weakly, "It's gigantic!"  Indeed the great house did look enormous with its three-story height and large yard.  He liked its comforting dignified look because it was far from normal and it looked nothing like the other houses on the block.  He didn't know why this mattered to him.  The garden, even with its imperfections, seemed beautiful.  _This is home._  As they approached, the door opened for them.

            They stepped inside the house.  Mimicking Zylle, he dropped the shopping bags on the floor.  He looked around the hallway and took it in:  the honey-colored timbers that made up the floor, the light blue flowered wallpaper, the dark hardwood stairs in front of him, and the side table with the Tiffany lamp.  Zylle smiled at him.  "Look around," she reassured.  "It's going to be your home anyway.  Besides, I can hear my mother.  She's planning something, I know it!"  She proceeded to run down the hallway to the back of the house.  Nuitari assumed that was where the kitchen was.  The aroma of savory pasta come from that direction and now slightly raised voices.  The voices seemed to have a humorous edge to them, though.  He smirked when he distinctly heard Zylle scream in frustration, "Mum!"

            The first room he looked into had to be the living room.  Cream couches matched with dark blue walls, adorned with many photos and paintings.  Many, he noticed, were of a younger Zylle as well as a woman who had to be her mother.  Another person whose face appeared often was of a dark-haired man with striking gray eyes.  Evidently, he was Zylle's father.  Oddly enough, there was also a large painting of Merlin.  Tearing his gaze away from these portholes into the past, he walked across to the large windows.  He could see the beech tree outside that Hedwig was currently perched in.  Nuitari waved at his owl, which hooted back at him.  There was quite a large entertainment system.  The television's screen had to be at least a 36" and combine that with the state-of-the-art VCR!  The blue and red rug beneath his feet looked extremely luxurious.

            Across the hall was the parlor room, which he found interesting.  It had an oriental theme with dragons, phoenixes, ying-yangs, and other eastern emblems showing up in many places.  Done up in reds, golds, and black, it obviously wasn't intended for daily use.  Skirting the black bookcases full of large volumes, he came to the table in the center of the room and traced the gold embossed dragon on the ebony.

            "Night!"  He looked up.  "Night!"  Zylle was calling him.  He left the parlor and went the way Zylle had taken earlier.  Nuitari barely saw the kitchen before he was nearly tackled by someone and captured into a very large hug.

            The tackler/hugger held his bewildered self away from her body, so she could get a good view of him.  The small woman grinned widely at him as if he were a gift she was waiting a long time for.  She was only a few inches taller than he was.  "Finally!  At last, I have a grandson!"  The energetic lady gave him another bone-crushing hug.  "Come one, give your grandmother a hug!"  _Man, she's strong!  I thought she was seventy-two!_

            "He heard Zylle and someone else, a man, laughing.  "Mum, let him go.  He does need to breathe."

            His 'grandmother' childishly stuck her tongue out at her daughter.  "I've been waiting for years for a grandchild and I'm not letting this one go!"  Turning back to him, "Call me 'Gran', love."

            Nuitari smiled shyly back while rubbing his ribs.  _And Dr. Annie said to take it easy._  "Alright…Gran."

            This made Gran, or Sarah as he was previously told, very happy.  So happy that she started dancing and doing war-whoops.  "Yes!  My dream has come true!"

            She must have seen his startled face because Zylle said to him, "She does this a lot, Nuitari."

            The man next to her asked, "Who named him that?"  He wore an old t-shirt, sweats, and a bathrobe.  It was a bright lime green and had matching slippers, which looked as if they were going to fall off his feet.  He was also elderly, but he seemed to have the same energy and youth that Gran had.  _He must be the neighbor Zylle talked about._

            He answered, "Mirabelle Diamante did while I was in the hospital."

            The man nodded understandingly, "Ah I see.  It makes sense now."  Grasping his hand in a strong grip, the man said happily, "Hans Claybourne, my boy!  Also known as 'that insane guy next door' and as 'Jebediah the Nutters'."  Hans' voice had an underlying German accent.  "Yes, I too have been a victim of Mirabelle's name-giving."

            Gran snorted.  "You're lucky.  Look at that poor Calvin Springfield.  Though it does make sense if what I've heard from his mother is true.  Who shortened it to 'Night'?  It certainly makes it less difficult."

            "Mirai did," Nuitari responded.  "She said that 'nuit' or something like that meant 'night' in French, so she thought it would be easier."

            "Sensible, I assume.  But I don't speak French.  Yo hablo espanol!  Now I see what Annie Diamante meant when he told me you needed fattening up!  Thank goodness for Hans here for the extra food."  _Please tell me she isn't going to stuff me so full of food, I'll get sick.  Betty at the hospital was more than enough!_

            Zylle scowled at the older man.  "You own the GROCERY store.  Why on Earth do you always come here for a meal?!"

            "Just because I have the food doesn't mean I can cook it, girl!"

            Nuitari couldn't help but widen his smile as the two began to bicker good-naturedly.  It looked like they had this argument many times before.  _I think I'm going to like it here._

***

Thanks to everyone who has read this, kept up with it, and please review.  I do like to hear from you people.  I keep missing my update deadlines!  This is getting me annoyed.  I'll have to get back on track fast.  And as you can tell, I find shopping extremely exhausting.

Harry has just been introduced to his new family:  Zylle, Sarah (or to him 'Gran'), and also Hans, who will always drop in.  He has a lot of catching up to do.  He has to learn the basics of elemental control and the history of the clans.  Not to mention building himself up for the school year.  Mirabelle said it would be starting late because of the tournament, so he'll most likely have time.  I hoped you liked Mirai; she definitely tries to be on the cutting edge of everything in fashion world since she works for Zenith (fake company, etc.).  That's why Zylle asked her to come with them.  Lavinia Coulter is very important, a sharp contrast to the happy Mirai.  

Next chapter should feature a history lesson from Sarah as well as we get a look into the realm of Tartarus.  The Dark Lady will be having a chat with the folks.  It should be up by either Thursday or Friday.  Hopefully, it will be Thursday.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**alana:  **Thanks for letting me know you liked it!

**PhoenixPadfoot89:  **Good to know people think Zylle is an appropriate guardian for Harry.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again!

**Queen-Seta/Remmy the Insane:  **Thanks for letting me know I'm improving!  The story is now heading into full swing.  Out of the ordinary names are cool.  Not only do they confuse people, but it makes the world a much more interesting place.

**arctic:  **No, I don't think Ancient Egypt will fit in here…but thanks for letting me my story is good.  Besides, who knows?  You might have just given me some ideas there!

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **I bet Harry would've done so even with the Gryffindor points at stake.  Dudley will come in a few later chapters so he's not going to disappear on us.  Thanks for reading!  I hope you like this one!

**Tropic:  **Thanks for reading!

**Wolfmoon:  **You're going to see a lot of what you asked for in the next chapters now, since Harry's settling into family and the Grey Tower community.  My update schedules been completely totaled, but I'm trying to get back on track.  I hope you liked this chapter!

**fullsailnate:  **I'm happy you liked that teaser about Voldemort.  Doesn't he sound sort of like Pettigrew there?  The main villain will remain behind the scenes for a while, as **she** has her own façade to keep up.  I'm also glad that you like the way I wrote Vernon's insanity.  I've never been near or seen a person like that and I only have few influences from TV to go on, so I'm complimented.  You're like another one of my readers, always catching the little things that will be important later!  Yes, you are right, he will be in it! Thanks for staying with this story for so long.  Your story isn't too shabby as well!  I really liked it!

**gaul1:  **Yes, Harry will remember about the elemental community and of Annuvin.  Big events will pop up soon and trust me; I don't think he'll be able to forget any of it.  That is, if he would want to forget anyway.  I hope you like this chapter as well!

**Renee Fay:  **We get to hear about what happens to Brian Jennings again next chapter.  He's just far too good of a character to not write about!  We have met Hans, our crazy neighbor, but he hasn't shown his insane side.  Yet.  I hope you liked Harry's shocked/bewildered reaction to Sarah.  Not many people just go up to you, hug you, and demand they call you 'Gran'.  But, alas, Sarah Hawking does.  Thanks for reading again!

**dmmason03:  **Thanks for not passing up my story!  It makes me happy to know that the story is grabbing people's attention.  I hope you continue reading/reviewing this.

**azntgr01:  **Yes, tests will not be fun for Harry.  Tough training will make it worse.  Wait until he gets to school.  Lavinia Coulter is feared for a reason.  I'm trying to prep for the SATs so it kind of reassures me that other people like myself have had trouble on it.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again!  I like replying to my reviewers, or at least thanking them.  You people are what is keeping Elemental Genesis going!

**ChrismKing208:  **Thanks for letting me know that I'm keeping the regular characters of Harry Potter in perspective.  Nothing makes a worse fic than out-of-character characters.  Unless they're being humorous, then it's okay.  I wanted Harry to be like this because it seemed unrealistic for him to just suddenly have these powers and know what to do with them.  I'm happy to know you find my story interesting!

**Arsenal:  **We get an idea on what Harry is going to learn next chapter and I'm glad to know that you liked the new and improved Dudley!  It took a lot of nerve to do that, especially to a person like Severus Snape.  A fellow Yu-Yu Hakusho fan!  I love that series.  Some of their abilities will be similar.  Moves like the ice elemental Touya's 'shards of winter' and the wind elemental Jin's flying moves will feature.  As you can tell, I can remember a lot of tiny facts from a series.  Don't get me started on Gundam Wing!  Yes, he will go some physical changes, but there will be several factors that will further prevent Dudley from recognizing his missing cousin.  I can't reveal them right now though!  Sure I'll e-mail you when I update, I don't mind.  I'm flattered really.

**Physicsfan:  **We're back to Harry here!  Most of the chapters from this point on will be about him.  Thanks for being such a constant reader/reviewer!

**Kivrin:  **Thanks for reading!

**Zephyris:  **Sarah will definitely encourage him to work on 'fire'.  I'm not sure whether to let him control the others though.  Thanks for reviewing!

**crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  **I hope you liked this chapter, you guys!  

**Winternight:  **You're right, the elementals tend to shy away from the wizarding world.  Harry won't be getting his wand back yet, but eventually it will be returned to him.  I'm happy to know you want to read more.

**norfintrollgirl:  **Thanks for giving me your opinion on pairings and I'm glad to know you love the story.

**purplefluffychainsaw:  **I'll try to give some more on Sirius and the others, but beware that those kinds of chapters may be extremely long with a lot of time between them.  Harry is the main focus of the story.  No, Harry's isn't in another world (I've been getting that question a lot…).  The elementals hide themselves from the wizarding world and the muggles.  Dr. Diamante explained that it was due to completely different philosophies on magic.  Elementals are more close to muggles, since they marry them often and use the technology.  I'm glad to know you like the chapters!  Thanks for reading!

**Prd2bAmerican:  **I'm happy to know you want more!

**Fantasyangel Writer:  **Don't you just hate it when FF. Net does that?  Especially when I get to my favorite fics.  Thanks for letting me know that you liked my writing and the plot of this!  This is a first attempt on my part and I'm happy it's going so well!  You're fics are wonderful as well!  You read Madeleine L'Engle?  Isn't she the best?  A Swiftly Tilting Planet is my favorite of her books, followed by A Wind in the Door.  I haven't read the last book though, but her writing's awesome.  It's a wonder why more people don't read her stuff.  Thanks for telling me what you liked about it.  I hope you continue reading this!


	12. Apocalypse Gates

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Twelve:  Apocalypse Gates

            She didn't even have to touch the marble double doors before they opened for her.  She was evidently expected.  _Not a good sign._  Melania, nevertheless, squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before stepping into the large chamber.

            The whole room had an aura of darkness around it.  It also was not especially welcoming.  Cold stone walls had black draperies hung on them, covering what would be windows to the outside.  She was always thankful of that; the view of the outside was not very pleasant.  Tartarus, unlike Annuvin, deserved its dread reputation.  Melania wasn't concentrating on her surroundings though.  She was more focused on the man looking in his early forties wearing dark armor, currently pacing in front of two forbidding thrones.  _He's pacing.  Now this is really bad.  I'm in trouble._

            "Hi," she stammered out, "dad."

            His black cape swirled as he turned to face her.  Blue eyes flecked with gold and silver narrowed at the sight of her.  Her father was upset.  Big time.  "So," he said.  "Do you plan on telling me what in the name of Tartarus that you're scheming?"  He finished his request with an impressive glare.

            Melania inwardly quailed.  "Father, I-"

            "Really!  I can't believe you're doing this!"  He ran pale long fingers through neat dark hair, a combination of anger and exasperation written on his face.  "I know that you feel an obligation to protect them, but if you hadn't stayed in the mortal realm way back when, this would never have happened!"

            _This is going a bit to far._  Now she was angry.  "Are you saying that this is all **my** fault?!

            "Hardly," Erebus scowled.  "Pheta should have let things go back then.  Not to mention look at thing at a level not concerning herself.  But you are a cause of this, no mistake."

            _He has a point.  Why must he always be right?!_  "I agree that I do carry part of the blame to this situation," she conceded.  "But I am trying to put an end to this!  I cannot allow any more of them to die!"

            He began pacing again.  "I hope you are not implying that I don't care about them, because I do."  She grinned hopefully.  However!"  _Shoot._  "Do you understand that if you go against Pheta and accuse her openly, Heaven won't take your side?  We are dark deities.  Many gods of darkness prefer to make trouble.  Look at your cousin Eris!  The Trojan War made a whole lot of mayhem in Ancient Greece and they aren't going to forget it all to soon.  Even if I or your aunt took your side, Pheta will get the support and you won't."

"Which is why I'm waiting!  If we can show Pheta's true colors, they will have to stop her."

            "Not necessarily," he responded cryptically.  He strode over to one of the hangings and pulled it open forcibly.  She winced as the sound of millions of tortured screams of agony seared the once silent air.  Seeing she got the point, he drew them over the window once more.  The shrieks of misery were abruptly hushed.  "Don't be naïve.  You know what those screams are, Melania.  Tartarus is the ultimate of punishments for the wicked souls of both human and demons.  They will be subjected to the worse kinds of pain for the evil deeds they had done while they were walking on the earth.  I'm supposed to oversee this task.  But you must remember that not all evil souls end up here, daughter.  There is evil within the gods as well, excepting the Almighty.  Which is why you have to be careful!"

            "Do you know what she's planning?"  She asked this with a plaintive, limp tone.  Erebus frowned, but didn't inquire.  He knew what she was upset about.

            "I assume she wants to open the Dark Gateway.  Stupid child."  Erebus always referred to gods younger than himself as 'children'.  As he was one of the first deities to ever exist to begin with, he called many of them this.  The only few he never did that to were his wife Nyx and his sister.  He, however, always had a grudge against Pheta.  Her self-righteousness and her vanity irked him to no end. 

            "Then you must understand why I must stop her.  If the Dark Gateway is opened-"

            "Of course, I know what will happen!  I have overseen Tartarus for eons, even longer than the humans have been in existence.  Those souls will be released and kill everything.  What Pheta doesn't realize is the cost of opening the Dark Gateway.  It is very different from the Light Gateway.  This one comes with a price.  I really don't think she knows what this penalty is, unless she has finally hit the deep end."

            Melania stiffened her stance.  "Good, you agree with me."

            "You misunderstand me.  But no matter."

            "But Dad-"

            "MELANIA!  EREBUS!"

            Both turned to look at the woman who just entered the room.  Where as Melania had her father's coloring and eyes, she had her mother's face and figure.  The Lady Nyx, goddess of the night, held them in suspicious brown velvet glare.  Her long wavy hair, pure white, fell perfectly around her curvy build.  She glided towards them, her hands holding a thin dark blue veil studded with diamonds.  "I knew you were here.  You're father would not have opened that blasted window if you were not."  She glowered at her husband.  "It's there **for a reason**," she said threateningly.

            Erebus looked much like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  "Sorry," he mumbled.

            Melania always laughed at this.  Her father was usually all fire and brimstone, but not in front of his wife.  He rarely discerned her opinion and doted on her spectacularly.  There was only one time she remembered that they had disagreed:  he wanted to get rid of the old throne of Tartarus and get a new one.  Her mother disapproved, but he did so anyway.  _And that's how I got stuck with Black Wolf._  It was a trick of Thanatos' to have their mother there before speaking to their father.  Melania seldom did that, since her father tended to make good decisions anyway.  Even if he got into a bad mood, he was still wise.  _Besides, she always asks about Black Wolf when I'm here.  What does she like about him?_

            Her mother made an angry sniff.  "I suppose you were talking about Pheta, right?"

            She always had the distinct feeling her mother watched over everything.  "Right.  I was going to find you right after I talked to Dad."

            "Sure, you were.  But Pheta is someone to be dealt with.  I remember when she was very young.  A spoiled brat, always saying that she had more followers than the rest of us.  Also she was very possessive, as you well know.  You do know that there is a lot at stake if you get involved, I assume."

            "I know, but worse things will happen if I don't."

            "Suit yourself.  Still be careful, though.  By the way, I checked on young Harry.  He settling in that place just fine."

            "That's good.  Wait."  She put a shield on Harry preventing Pheta, or anyone except herself or Thanatos from finding him.  "How did you find Harry?"

            "Thanatos," Erebus answered simply.  "He dropped by a few days ago, complaining about Brian Jennings.  You reincarnated him again?"

            "Yep."

            "I expect we'll see him sometime soon then.  Your brother was begging me to just take his soul and keep him here.  I found it funny.  You're mother was very happy when she found Harry though."  He smiled fondly at his wife.  

            "Of course, I'm happy!  His name is connected to me!"  Melania inwardly did a dance of joy.  If her mother began to favor Harry, then the protection spells over him would become stronger.  There was no power greater than the blessing of the night goddess.  "Anyway," her mother continued.  "Does he know?  Or did you leave him in the dark like Tom?"  Seeing her daughter's face flush red, Nyx sighed.  "You are going to have to let them know sooner or later."

            "I really don't want to discuss it right now," Melania quipped back.

            "You never do.  How's Black Wolf doing?"

            Erebus then asked in mock concern.  "Yes, how is the poor dear?  I bet he's still cursing out souls and acting like the piece of-" He stopped when he saw his wife's angry look.  "Like the wonderful stone statue I remember!"  Under the two confused female gazes looking at him as if he were crazy, he gave up.  "I hate the thing, can't blame me!"

            Nyx said as if speaking to a belligerent child, "Black Wolf is a gentleman and I won't hear any bad talk about him."  Father and daughter shared a knowing look.  "He wasn't as bad as Blue Leopard, in any case."

            Erebus admitted, "You have an excellent point there."

            "I don't remember him, Dad.  What did he do that was so annoying?"

            "There is only so much time a person can stand listening to incessant talk about the wonders of cheese."

            "Morning, Hedwig."  Hedwig hooted a morning salutation from where she was perched on a bird stand, given to him by the house.  Truth be put, Nuitari didn't want to get up.  The bed was far too comfortable.  It was seven o'clock though and he was eager to start the day.  Opening the window to let the snowy owl out, he reveled in the fresh morning air.  He left the window open in case she wanted to come back in.  Next, he made his bed.  According to Zylle, if he left the any room of the house messy, then the house would lock him inside unless he cleaned up.  This was a downside to having an intelligent house:  it did not allow any clutter.

            Nuitari loved his room.  Zylle said it had to be for him, since Number 14 barred entry to any of the other bedrooms.  It was on the third floor like the other dormitories.  Much of the room was in greens, gray-blues, and black.  In addition to a large bed, he had a black desk with many compartments for his things.  Many bookshelves lined the wall, but a lot of the shelves were empty and waiting to be filled.  The books the room had already provided (there weren't many) pertained to topics such as elemental history, control, theory, and the like.  He had already packed his clothing away in the bureau and the closet.  The large bay window even had a cushioned seat and gave him a fantastic view of the west.  He had not left his own personal mark on the place, but it was to be expected.  _I just got the room yesterday, so I need time to get used to it and personalize it._

            Nuitari threw on a white t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a pair of socks, one of many that they had bought the day before.  He also put in his contacts and grinned at his gray-eyed reflection in the small silver mirror hanging on the wall.

            His dreams since he had returned from Lethe were of the peaceful sort.  He did, though, feel as if something were trying to push into them.  That disturbed him because he had a distinct feeling that the intruder attempting to get into his mind was not a friend.  He did not know what it was though.

            _…A graveyard, filled with black robed men wearing masks…_

            As abruptly as that scene appeared in his head, it vanished.  He shrugged it off and went downstairs.  Nuitari did not notice Hedwig glowing slightly white and observing him with concerned amber eyes.

            He immediately went to the kitchen, where the aroma of delicious food was drawing him.  Sarah was making pancakes.  Zylle wasn't home, but she promised to get her schedule changed.  That way she could have more time to train and see him during the day.  While she was at work, Sarah was to teach him about the theory behind elemental magic and its history.  Also, he was to have time to explore Grey Tower Town.  They did not want to confine him to the house all day.  _Which is a good thing._  Zylle would then teach him how to use the magic in the practical sense, as well as in combat.  According to her, it was necessary for an elemental to know how to fight.

            "Hey, kiddo!  How did you sleep?"  Sarah smiled at him while deftly flipping golden-brown pancakes in the air.  

            "Great!  I didn't know a bed could be **that** comfortable."  It was true.  The bed in his room was absolutely perfect.  It was even better than the hospital bed and that bed was pure bliss.

            "The house does that," Sarah responded.  "Whoever put all these charms on the house was a genius."  Piling six fluffy pancakes onto a plate and handing it to him, she said, "Eat up!  After breakfast, I'll give you a basic history of our town.  Syrup's already on the table, love."

            He asked as they sat down in the dining room, "Basic?  Shouldn't you give me a detailed version?"  He was, after all, a great deal behind everyone else.  These people have lived here all there lives, while he was just a boy who appeared out of nowhere with no memory.  Shouldn't he be cramming all the facts he needed to know in his head?            

            "Trust me, basic is all you need."  Nuitari noted in amusement that in addition to syrup, she added whipped cream to her breakfast.  "The teachers at the school rarely teach anything new anymore.  I was talking to Mariana Ravencroft a few days ago.  Her oldest son – he's your age, I think – was doing an assignment that I myself did years ago!  The only person doing anything relatively new is Vinny Coulter."

            "I've heard about her.  Zylle said she's pretty tough.  Is it true, Gran?"

            Sarah laughed.  "Tough is an understatement, Night!  Lavinia nearly beat Zylle at their tournament and Zylle's a sixth class.  Lavinia maybe only fifth class, but she is very determined to get what she wants.  That girl is extremely ambitious, not to mention cunning.  Her attitude is just as cold as the attacks she uses.  One scowl sends kids running.  Also, she plays favorites with her students.  She's one to be careful around."

            "Now I'm scared to face her."

            "Too bad.  Knowing her, she'll come here running once she hears about you."

            "I'm just so lucky."

            Sarah took him to the study on the second floor.  Like the rest of the house, it was in dark colors.  It had a lot of light though since the huge windows faced south.  Many of the books were like the ones in the parlor.  Laws of the Arashi-Tenku Dragons and History of the Clans stared back at him from especially thick bindings.  There was a huge desk here and a black computer.  It was connected to what he recognized as a printer and fax machine.  He noticed Sarah making a face of disgust.

            "Don't like computers?"

            "That's not it, really.  It's mostly because that daughter of mine spends far too much time in here doing work.  She's so much like her father that it is scary.  He was exactly the same, working himself to the bone.  Hopefully," she looked at him meaningfully.  "That will end soon."  She ruffled his hair affectionately.  "Now that she has you, she most likely won't.  Take a seat!  This won't be long."

            Nuitari sat down in a dark blue armchair while Sarah sat in the red on opposite him.  "I suppose the first place to start is about how the town was first formed.  It's best to start at the beginning," she said.  "Many, many centuries ago, there lived a sorcerer named Merlin.  You know about him, right?"

            "Of course."

            "Anyway, he had an apprentice by the name of Taran Hawking.  He and his wife Bryne – the only descendant of Merlin then, his daughter – came to this place and deemed it suitable for a color of magic users to live here.  Using a great deal of magic, they built the Grey Tower.  It was a magical watchtower that promoted the use of magic and served as a symbol of good against evil forces.  When it was completed, magicians and sorcerers of all types flocked here to study magic."

            "Is this why our family is so important around here?  And what happened to the tower?  I haven't seen it."

            "To your first question:  yes, that is why.  I don't technically count as a Hawking since I was born a Vartar in another clan before the wars, but Zylle is the last of the line."  She grinned, "Well, she was."

"But I'm adopted."

            "So?!  You're part of the family now.  It doesn't work if it's by marriage, but it does by adoption.  Since Zylle adopted **you**, you are now a descendant.  It's some complex binding spell to keep the family going."  Seeing his confused look, she admitted, "I've never understood it either, even when Thomas explained it to me.  I don't think even he knew much about it."

            _Thomas must be Zylle's father_.  "What about the tower?"

            "Actually, you were in it.  The remains of it anyway."

            "What do you mean?" _ I would think that I would remember being in a tower while I was here.  She said the remains of it.  That must be the key word there._

            "The hospital."

            "It's not a tower.  Betty told me while I was there that all of it was underground."

            "Because the underground passages and rooms are all that is left.  When the Romans invaded, some genius tore the tower down.  A good friend of mine, who happened to be a True Seer, said that the tower would rise again when the Gates are open.  What she meant by 'the Gates' she didn't say.  But Cassandra Morgaine was always like that.  Moving on.  It was around this time when wizards and elementals began drawing away from muggles, though elementals found uses for their technology.  Wizards were always too proud to even think of doing things in the muggle way."

            "I think many of them still don't like to judging from what I can remember from my wizarding education."

            "Typical.  That's why witches and wizards born here are taught early to accept the technology and use it.  We're getting off topic, but history is always interesting."

            "I used to find most of it rather boring."

            "Probably because it was taught to you the wrong way.  The history you learned most likely came from some old windbag who forgets the human aspect of what he or she is teaching.  I hate teachers like that."

            "You were saying?"

            "Right!  Thanks.  Then, during the Middle Ages, elementals began to separate from the wizarding world.  Wizards wanted to discern nature altogether.  Our power is connected directly to nature, so to us that was absurd.  We left them to study their books and fiddle with their wands, while we practiced our magic.  By the time of the Renaissance, we were completely forgotten by them.  The few that do know about us are usually relatives and are under a strict oath of secrecy.  Even now we do it to our wizarding children or to people we marry that aren't elementals, whether they are wizard or muggle.  We teach all our children with wizarding magic French at an early age and when they're eleven, we send them off to Beauxbatons.  There is a school up north for wizards; the name is something dealing with a pig.  But when we sent our kids there, they were constantly sick."

            "Why were they sick?  Are they alright?"

            "Oh, they're fine if they go to Beauxbatons.  There's just something there at that particular school that causes them to be ill.  If they aren't sick, they attract trouble like the plague.  The doctors at Grey Tower Sanctuary say that there is a presence there that does it.  It reacts to our children, who though can't use elemental magic, have it in their blood.  It got out of hand when one child, a boy, actually died."

            "What happened to him?"

            "Spontaneously combusted.  He came from a long line of fire elementals."

            "Maybe I shouldn't go there."

            "I would think so.  Back to the story.  Around the time of the witch-hunts – which we sort of caused because some woman decided it would be funny to fly around scaring people– the clans started to form.  Each clan specialized in a specific forum."

            "Yeah, Mirabelle told me.  The Arashi-Tenku believe in a balance of offense and defense as well as employing strategy."

            "That is true, but did she tell you that fifty years ago that twenty-five clans used to exist?"

            "No, but Zylle mentioned something about that.  She talked about how only six of the clans around here went against this Grindelwald guy.  Only five survived."

            "Exactly.  I used to be in Suiko-Tsuki Panthers.  Specialty:  reducing large areas to ruin.  I didn't follow Grindelwald, so I transferred to the Arashi-Tenku."

            "They're gone."

            "Dust in the wind.  Though, I will always remember the Black Wolf of the Sekai-Kage.  Mirage Searle was an amazing person, Night."

            "Did she disappear?"

            "To who knows where.  She was badly injured the last time I saw her and the fact that everyone in her clan was dead didn't help.  I guess the fact that she killed the person who betrayed them all was a consolation, but she was still alone."

            "What was she able to do?"

            "She was a fifth class water elemental and very gifted.  Do you now what occlumency is?"

            "Nope…does it involve blocking something?  'To occlude' does mean 'to block', I think."

            "Good deduction.  Occlumency is the magical defense of the mind against external penetration.  It's very useful, hiding what you are really thinking from a person who can detect lies or who is psychic.  She was a master at that as well as making illusions."

            "What was she like?"  _She sounds pretty interesting._

            "As a person?  Not many people liked her.  She had an intense personality that was just plain intimidating.  Often she was bad-tempered and serious.  She held grudges for a long time and was fond of baiting those people that she disliked.  You have to give her credit though.  She was a great leader."

            Nuitari was thinking pretty hard here.  _She sounds familiar in a way, like she acted like someone I knew…can't remember obviously.  _Sarah harshly brought him back to reality by shoving a medium-size book into his hands.  "Metamorphosis Through Elemental Magic," he read aloud.  "What does that mean?"

            "It's turning something into something else through your element.  The concept is hard to grasp and the act of doing it is even worse.  But it is useful.  Which is why you're going to read up on it today and practice with me tomorrow."

            "Gran, I thought you agreed with Zylle that she'd teach me the practical stuff while you stuck with 'the book stuff'."

            Sarah held up her hand with her index and middle fingers crossed.  "Crossed my fingers.  A surprise will do her good anyway."

            "CHOCOLATE!  YES!  SARAH!  YOU NEED TO SEE THIS!"

            Sarah laughed as she heard Hans' shouts from Number 12 next door.  "He's growing chocolate trees for fun.  I didn't think they would grow.  Good, I can get chocolate for my brownies cheaper."

            "I think they need to be refined before you can make them into anything."

            "Which is why Hans modified the seeds before planting.  It's amazing what an insane earth elemental would do just to have a chocolate tree."

***

Yes!  I'm on time!  Thanks to everyone who is reading this.  Please review and tell me what you think.

You would expect gods to be omnipotent and perfect, wouldn't you?  But no, they aren't.  They act more or less human, which means they can relate to what goes on in the mortal realm.  We get a glimpse of what would happen if the Dark Gateway were to be opened as well as who the mysterious **she** is.  Pheta has a huge grudge against Melania, which is why she is doing this.  Melania made a mistake in the past that was one of the causes for all this.  Actually, it really wasn't her fault.  Pheta does need someone to blame.  I hope I portrayed Erebus and Nyx well.  I added the part in about the cheese when my best friend sent me a Google search showing me how many sites in the world that were devoted solely to cheese.  There are a lot!

Harry just learned about how Grey Tower Town came to be and is going to learn the elemental version of transfiguration.  That should be interesting.  Yes, Zylle is the last descendant of Merlin.  Since she adopted Harry though, that changed.  The spell to bind the person to the family is complex and ancient.  As Sarah said, she didn't think even the family knew how it happened.  Mirage Searle and what happens to her is very important and will come in later.  I did give several hints to who she is connected to.  Also, doesn't that explain how Harry always got into trouble at Hogwarts?

Dudley chapter is next!  We learn of the fate of Vernon, what will happen to the Dursleys, and how Dudley is coping.  Hopefully it will be up by Saturday.  After that, we do the harsh training with Zylle (considering how she is, Harry's in for a tough time) and meet the infamous Lavinia Coulter.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers (you guys are the best!):_

**Wolfmoon:  **Name changing is fun and as you will soon learn, many of the residents of Grey Tower Town have odd nicknames.  We heard about **she** or as we now know:  Pheta.  She is a goddess but she isn't related to Melania, the Dark Lady.  They do hate each other though because of that mistake Melania did years ago.  We're all lazy and forgetful once in a while, but it's human nature.  I hope you liked this chapter!

**Fantasyangel Writer:  **I'm happy to know that you like Sarah and Mirai.  Mirai, not to mention other vampires, will come into the story.  Many of them are clan members.  You'll see why soon.  I'm sorry, but I haven't read that book.  I'll look for it though, since I've heard it's pretty good.  She wrote it when she was thirteen?  Wow!  Thanks for reading again and approving of my update schedule.  I hate keeping people waiting.  Don't worry about the Writer's Block.  Something will come along and trigger that inspiration you need.  For me, it happened while eating a bologna sandwich and switching through channels.  Spanish soap operas aren't that bad, even if I don't understand most of what they say.

**azntgr01:  **It's good to know that you like my summaries and that it helps you.  For a second I thought I shouldn't write them anymore, since there is a lot to be said.  I love replying to my reviewers!  I wouldn't be writing if it wasn't for all the support I've been getting.  I'm going into tenth grade, but the teachers are going to put a lot of pressure on my fellow classmates and me.  It's not easy being in advanced placement.  Thanks for wishing me luck and I'll try not to procrastinate.  It's hard though as I usually procrastinate a lot!

**Arsenal:  **Someone will be able to use the rose whip, but we haven't met that particular earth elemental yet.  I also love Hiei's Dragon of the Darkness Flame!  It's too bad it's so hard to control.  Jin was cool and I was upset they didn't give him more moves.  Combining elemental attacks will come in though.  Zylle will make sure to teach him that since she won her tournament using a combo attack.  I hope this chapter answered your question about the Grey Tower.  It was torn down, but the underground passages weren't damaged.  That's why the elementals made it into a hospital:  the magic that remained helps them heal faster.  Thanks for reading and I'll do my best!

**dmmason03:  **I hate the exact same thing!  One of my favorite stories hasn't updated in months, which makes me sort of mad.  That's why I update quickly, but things will most likely slow down once school starts.  Thanks for reading again!

**fanfictionfanatic3:  **Thanks!

**Dumbledore:  **Yes, I can guess which character you like.  The physical description of Nuitari in avatar form matched Harry a lot, which is why I chose him.  Raistlin will make an appearance, I can assure you of that!  We won't seem him in a while yet.  I'm happy you like my story and I hope you stay with it!  Thank you.

**sris:  **I hate waiting for good stories to update, which is why I'm trying to update quickly.  I bet that school will slow it down though.  Thanks for adding my story to your favorites!  I'm flattered!  Don't worry about the reviewing thing, I'm just happy to know you like the story and that you're reading it.  Thanks for reading!

**shiroiryu144:  **There are worse nicknames that Mirabelle has given to people.  Much worse.  Harry's been let off easy.  Sarah's been looking forward to a grandchild for years as we saw before, so she was really happy to have Harry in the family.  It is exhausting.  But I guess it is worse for you since you have to walk everywhere in Hong Kong.  I have to walk now myself, until I get a new bike.  Lavinia is a fun person to write!  I'm glad you like that she's a water/ice elemental.  I can assure you that she is very much like Snape, except there is a difference between them.  Other than the fact that Snape's a man and Lavinia's a woman, I mean.  You like Lapras?  It is a strong Pokemon, isn't it?  I tend to have one in my party since its water/ice attacks are very effective.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again.

**Angelis01:  **I'm happy to know you look forward to the next chapters!

**Mira-hime:  **Thanks and it was no problem.  I actually made a mistake typing.  The real name of the Wolf clan was the Sekai-Kage.  Sekai means 'world' in Japanese.  I have to go back and fix that.  'Suiko' means 'water' and 'tsuki' is moon.  Let's hope I don't make any more mistakes.  Thanks for reviewing again!

**fullsailnate:  **I'm glad you like Mirabelle and her odd nicknames for people are a constant in this.  The nickname for the aforementioned Calvin Springfield is appropriate for him, as you will see when we meet him.  It is a coincidence that Mirage disappeared and now Harry appears, but they are not related.  Mirage does have a descendant, but Harry was sent to get away from the threat of Pheta (the person talking to Voldemort).  Vampires will come in later, but so far it will just be Mirai.  I'm glad you caught that vampire reference.  Thanks for reading again and great chapter on your story, The Fourth Power.  I loved how Nightmare and Dreem killed Nott!

**crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  **The action is coming soon!  The training will have most of it, but the tournament will be great!  We just need to build up on everything first.  Thanks for reading/reviewing again!

**THE-PENGUIN2:  **Thanks for letting me know my story is good!  I hope you continue reading.

**Jordan:  **The training begins in chapter 14, since we going to see Dudley chapter next.  It will be good!  As we will soon find out, Zylle did not become the leader of the clan just because of her heritage.  No, Tom and Harry do not belong to the sixth clan.  We do know someone who is related to the last clan.  That relative of Tom and Harry's (you're still guessing aren't you?) is actually not an elemental.  You have to read in between the lines of the conversation between Melania and her parents in the end.  The two of them don't know either; they just know they are related.  

**gaul1:  **This chapter answered your question:  Hedwig will block the old dreams and visions.  Melania did this because as Thanatos said, Pheta is trying to reach out to him.  Thanks of your compliments and for reading!

**Zephyris:  **It is similar, isn't it?  Zephyrus was the Greek god of the west wind, which why I chose it.  Harry won't be getting back to Hogwarts anytime soon, but he will eventually go back.  Thanks for reading!

**Noctem:  **Thanks for reading again!  I answered your questions in an e-mail to you.  I hope it answers them!

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **Thanks for reading and I'm happy to know you liked the chapter.  Yes, Harry will go to Grey Tower High and we will meet Lavinia Coulter soon.  Unfortunately for her students, she is like Snape.  But there will be one major difference between her and our favorite potions master.

**Artemis Moonclaw:  **I'm happy to know you're interested!  I hope you continue to follow this and thank you.

**Eiree:  **Thanks!

**theauthorthatwrites:  **Harry won't be going to Hogwarts for a while, but it would shock our good friends wouldn't it if he did just show up on the Hogwarts Express?  Thanks for reading and reviewing.  I'm glad you like my story.

**Queen-Seta/Remmy-the-Insane:  **It's those mad relatives that we love the most, right?  It's ironic your grandmother's name is Zelda since that was the name of Sarah's mother.

**Caroline Hal:  **I'm glad to know you're interested!  Thanks and I hope you stay with this.

**LadySnape7:  **Thanks for reading!  I'm happy to know that you love it.


	13. To Be A Man

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Thirteen:  To Be A Man

            The pile of weeds continued to grow larger as he worked.  There was a lot more to go, as the yard had not been cared for in months.  The job of maintaining the house had before fallen to Harry, but he wasn't here.  Dudley wiped the sweat off his forehead using the back of his hand.  _How come Harry wasn't all muscle with all this hard work?  _He mulled this thought over.  _Most likely it was because we didn't feed him enough._

            It had been nine days since Harry vanished, six since the wizard arrived on their doorstep.  Soon after he had told that Professor Snape or whoever all that he knew and left, at least ten more wizards showed up less than an hour later.  Vernon had, of course, resisted.  A blast of red light from the wand of a particularly scarred and disfigured man paralyzed him.  That man and seven others left, but three remained behind.  It was one of those remaining three that had terrified him the most.

            That man looked like he was going to kill his father right there with his bare two hands.  He wore red robes, unlike the others darned in blue.  His face was probably very handsome at one point, but a lot seemed to have faded away.  He gave the appearance of one who used to be carefree but had everything fall to pieces in one life-altering moment.  Brilliant blue eyes that seemed to be haunted by shadow chilled when they came to rest upon him.  Nevertheless, he gathered up his courage and dutifully did as requested.  He took him up to Harry's room.  Dudley hadn't been there because of his father.  Vernon was still determined not to let anyone enter it.

            It looked like something straight from a nightmare.  He was disgusted by the state of it, as was the red robed wizard.  One could easily tell what occurred in here.  The floor was scuffed and in several places stained with a dark substance that had to be blood.  The bed was thrown haphazardly against the wall, smashed.  Harry's desk was in the same overall condition.  After seeing the room for himself, he had no trouble believing his father's tale of Harry conjuring up a whirlwind.

            The red wizard checked a loose portion of the floor.  From underneath the boards, he pulled out several books, some stale cakes _(So that's how he survived when they put me on that horrible diet.)_, and a long silvery cloak.  He looked at the fabric sorrowfully for a long time before snapping back to the present.  He then gathered all of Harry's remaining things and went downstairs.  The wizards that had remained with his mother had evidently questioned her and collected his missing cousin's trunk.  Without a word, they left.  He learned later from his very shaken mother that the wizard in the red robes was none other than the infamous Sirius Black himself.  No wonder he felt such fear when the convict was there.  He had then felt sort of bad for his father, still in that man's company.  But he quickly and firmly changed his mind.  Vernon Dursley deserved everything he got.  No one should treat another human being like he did to Harry.

            They got the news later that Vernon had finally cracked.  The wizards sent him to a mental institution:  St. Claire's Mental Facilities.  They assured them that he would be treated well there and no charges would be pressed.  _Apparently, they thought being insane was punishment enough._  He and his mother visited him there.  It wasn't a pretty sight.  The large man was sitting on the floor in a corner, rocking back and forth.  Vernon kept laughing and screaming to get away from the Blue Eyes.  Dudley knew who he meant even if the doctors didn't.  He felt that she was entitled to do what she did to his father.  He himself was ashamed to be related to that wreck in the padded room.

            He had new priorities to take care of now.  The house needed to be maintained and they had to get back on track, without his father.  Petunia had become a chef at Culinary Delights, the restaurant that belonged to the family of his new friend Alyce.  She liked it there and was trying to get over what happened.  Dudley's job was doing well and the company said that during the school year he should take architecture classes.  They also invited him to work weekends and in the summer next year.  He was happy about this because he truly loved the hard work that was his job.  The inside of the house had already been cleaned and fixed.  They had even redone Harry's room, though he could tell it was very difficult for his mother to do this.  He had the feeling that they wouldn't be going in there for a while.  The windows had been scoured of all dirt and the flowerbeds replanted.  The grass was slowly, but surely, returning to green.  The weeds, though, were the trouble.  Dudley knew that no matter how many he pulled now, more would grow back.

            _It's sort of like the world in a way.  There will always be weeds, no matter how many we pull out.  The least I can do is make sure that there aren't too many._  With this vehement thought, he pulled out one particularly tough weed from the ground with satisfaction.

            "Hey, Alyce.  How are you?"

            The girl smiled back at him.  "I'm doing fine, nothing big.  You've lost weight!"

            "Yeah," he said, blushing in embarrassment and pride.  "The running is helping a lot, as is my job.  10 pounds!"

            "It really shows because you look great!  You work in a construction company, right?"

            "The work is fascinating!  There's this huge high since I'm making a mark on the world with my own two hands! Do you know what?  I get this major ego trip every time I pass the construction site!  I can imagine what I'll be like when the building is done."  He laughed jovially at this.

            She joined in his amusement.  "It's pretty cool!  When it's done, I can say that a friend of mine built that building!"

            They continued running along the smooth park path, chatting about their lives and such.  In Alyce, Dudley found a great confidant:  a willing and patient listener.  Alyce at the moment was ecstatic that her parents bought her the roller blades that she had wanted.  The restaurant was doing so well they got them for her as a treat. 

            "Thanks for giving my mother a job, by the way."

"As I said before, it was no problem!  Your mum's an awesome cook!  We never had so many customers before she started working for us."

            Dudley was prevented from responding by two shouts of Alyce's name.  One was a male's, the other belonging to a female.  The owners of the voices were running briskly towards them.  The boy was around his age with gangly long legs with dirty blond hair and brown eyes seeming to have trouble keeping up his running pace.  The girl was around his age and possessed short dark brown hair.  Dark glasses shielded her eyes and she kept a tight hold on the leash of the golden retriever running ahead of her slightly.  As soon as they caught up, the unknown boy collapsed to the cement.  Dudley could see the wet signs of sweat in his red sweat suit.  "God, I hate running," he panted.

            The girl with the dark glasses chuckled.  "He's fine, just out of shape.  Hey Alice, who's your friend?"  Dudley was shocked.  This girl was obviously blind yet she knew he was there.

            "Dudley, these are my best friends."  Alyce pointed to the boy on the ground.  "He's Jerald Maplethorpe."  

            He waved back at him, still sitting and gasping, "Just call me Jerry, everybody does."

            Alyce continued, "And this is Camilla Weaver and her seeing-eye dog, Sammy.  Guys, this is Dudley Dursley."

            The dog barked once as a greeting while the blind girl put out her hand.  He gladly took it.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dudley.  Most people just call me Cami.  Call me Millie and you die."

            Jerry picked himself up.  "I haven't seen you around school, Dudley.  Where have you been all this time?  Did you just move here?  I've lived here for four years and never saw hide nor hair of you before."

            "No, I've lived here all my life.  I just went to some stuck up private school before hand.  This year I'm going to Stonewall because my father lost his job."

            Cami was stunningly perceptive.  "Grunnings?"

            "Yes.  How did you know?"

            "My dad used to work there.  Was your father's name Vernon Dursley?  I think that was the name of the guy who always used to yell at my father."

            "Unfortunately.  Sorry if he caused your dad any trouble."

            "It's alright.  I bet you're nothing like your dad anyway.  My dad is now with that new company, so it's no big deal.  Where's your dad now?"  
            "Mental institution," replied Dudley shortly.

            Jerry waved it off.  "Who cares?  We now have a new friend.  It's good to have new friends."

            Dudley bit his lip.  "I'm not sure I'll be too well-liked at Stonewall."

            Alyce asked, "Why on Earth would you think that?"  
            "I used to be a huge bully before."

            Jerry said nonchalantly, "So?  Now you're not and that's all that matters.  Never hold grudges.  C'mon guys!  I've got my second wind!"

            Cami slyly said, "Second?  I wasn't aware that there was a first."

            They all laughed, including Jerry.  All four, plus one dog, jogged down the park lane, bonds of friendship forming and strengthening.

"Well, well.  Look who it is."

The group turned as one towards the voice that said this.  Dudley froze.  They were sitting on the playground equipment as if they owned it and he noticed that many of the children were keeping far away from them.  He winced.  He used to be just like them.  It was his old gang.  All of them were there:  Piers Polkiss, Dennis Townsend, Malcolm Rockwell, and Gordon Armstrong.  Dennis, who was obviously the new leader, continued to speak to them in that annoying high-pitched voice.  _Someone hasn't hit puberty yet._

"It's the terrific threesome.  Oh, is the blind girl scared?"  Dennis had caught Cami backing away slightly from his loud voice.  "Can't you see?"  He continued to taunt her while Sammy was growling and snarling.  The four idiots had apparently not seen him. 

Jerry jumped to Cami's defense.  "Leave her alone!  She's a lot smarter and a much better person than all four of you put together!"

Piers let a smirk show on his rat-like face.  "Stay out of, nerd. Unless you want to get hurt."

"Do you really think I'm afraid of you, Polkiss?  You're just a snobby rich-boy.  A pansy."

"You little-"

Alyce stepped in.  "Just because people fear you doesn't mean we are.  You keep everyone from enjoying themselves by ruining everything in every place you're in!  Those kids don't even dare come here to play anymore because you sit here and smoke cigarettes all day!"

Malcolm and Gordon, who Dudley remembered as being extremely dumb, just grunted and pummeled their hands into their fists in a threatening nature towards them.

_This is different.  Was I really that much of a jerk?  Did I really hang around these idiots?  They're nothing but lowlifes!  Why was I with them?!  _He got hit with a huge pang of guilt here.  _I was like that.  I used to be an idiotic piece of trash that caused nothing but trouble and unhappiness.  I used to do this to other kids:  threatening them and making fun of them.  And I remember that Harry used to be like Alyce, Cami, and Jerry:  always standing up against us.  _He remembered the Shadow Goddess's words to him.  _I vowed to both the Shadow Goddess and myself that I would be a decent human being now.  I won't let this happen to other people ever again._

Dennis said, "We'll just have to teach you a lesson then for going against us.  I don't think the odds are in your favor.  I mean all you have is a goody-goody, a girl who can't see a single thing, a nerd, and a pathetic dog!"

Dudley stepped forward.  "They also have me," he growled out.  His three new friends grinned at him as he did this.

All four of them froze.  The cigarette that Piers was smoking fell out of his open mouth.  Dennis exclaimed, "Dursley!  But you-you were-"

"Dying, maybe?"

Sharing a pointed look with Piers, Dennis shakily smiled.  "It's good to have you back, man!  We all thought you weren't going to make it!"

"Right.  That's why you abandoned me and ridiculed me.  You thought I was going to die, so it would be safe to make fun of me.  After all, he's not going to be alive soon, so it's no big deal!"

Piers pleaded, "We didn't mean any of it, Big D!"

"Sure, you didn't.  I'm supposed to believe a bunch of two-faced losers like you four."

Dennis' face contorted into one of both anger and shock.  "What?"

"I can't believe I used to be like you!  Like you four, I was just sitting here and acting stupidly.  Listen you no-brain rats," he yelled.  "I'm not like you anymore and I won't stand for you doing this!  What you're going to do now is leave and never bother any of us again!"

            "But, Dud!  We're your friends!  You can't do this us!"

            "You are NOT my friends.  Friends don't leave you when they find out you're broke.  Friends don't make fun of you and humiliate you when they find out you're going to die.  I have friends now and they are not you.  Now get lost!"

            Dudley's tirade had become more passionate and threatening with every word.  The four of them scampered with Dennis screaming, "We'll get you for this, Dursley!"  Dennis, however, was the one running away the fastest.  He then recalled that Dennis had very good survival instincts.

            After a moment of shocked silence, Jerry said, "You were awesome.  Really awesome."

            Cami asked quietly, "Were you really part of their gang before?"

            "Yeah," he admitted.

            "And you were going to die?"

            He nodded.  "They left me once they found out that Grunnings hit rock bottom.  I had a heart condition earlier and I was dying.  They then started to humiliate me and make fun of me once they learned that.  I recovered though, so it seems that I gave them quite a shock."

            Jerry smiled at him.  "They looked like they were about to go in their pants!  It was hilarious!"  He punched him playfully on the shoulder.  "I'm glad you're in our gang now."

            Alyce said, "So, Dudley passed your so called 'test', Jerry?"

            "With flying colors.  I can't befriend someone who doesn't stand up to those creeps!  We do tend to do that a lot."

            "I won't let you do that alone then," Dudley promised.

            Dudley returned home earlier than his mother.  They anticipated this, so Petunia taught him how to make a few simple and healthy meals so he wouldn't have to wait.  Getting out the stir-fry pan and the cutting board, he reflected on his new friends.  

            Jerry was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy.  He wasn't afraid to speak his mind.  Judging from what the others said and what had happened, this got him into trouble sometimes.  He was a brilliant science student as his parents were biologists.  He, however, absolutely hated insects.  Even worse for him, insects were the topic his parents were studying at the moment.  Jerry complained loudly of the state of his house now.  "I swear, one day, I'm going to get a heart attack.  Everywhere!  Bugs!  Why do they have to bring them home?!  Aah!  Is that a wasp?!"  He oiled the pan slightly and put it over the stovetop.

            Dudley got out some meat and vegetables and with a knife, began chopping them up.  Cami Weaver was a different person.  She was born blind, but tried not to let it limit her.  Cami hated pity and sympathy over her blindness.  She believed she could make a good and wonderful life for herself even without her sight.  For one thing, she took art classes and seemed to be very good at pottery.  She loved heavy metal and liked a lot of noise around her.  Despite that though, she was a relatively quiet person with an extremely sharp wit.  Sammy, her seeing eye dog, was by her side constantly.  The blind girl never failed to praise and compliment her eyes to the world.  He tossed the food into the pan, now hot.

            Alyce was like Jerry:  talkative.  He vigorously flipped and stirred the vegetables in the pan over the stove's flame.  The difference was that she was generally more tactful.  She was very conscious of how she looked since the popular girls had ridiculed her so much.  Alyce had a large family, all of them possessing a love for food and cooking.  Culinary Delights was a successful restaurant in town.  Sometimes even famous people went there.  According to Cami, she had a habit of defending people from bullies and helping people.  Dudley was surprised she even dared to associate with him, considering what he used to act like.  

            He sat down at the table with his dinner.  He had made sure that there was some extra and put it away in the refrigerator.  That way his mother could have a meal waiting for her.  Dudley smiled at the thought of his new friends.  _They won't abandon me when times get rough, I'm sure of it._  Then he noticed the folded piece of paper on the table.  Opening it up, he noticed immediately that his mother had not written this.  The handwriting was a beautiful script that looked perfect.  

_Dudley,_

_            You know who I am.  You are doing well for yourself and keeping your end of our bargain.  I'm proud of you.  Do not worry about Harry for he is safe and well.  Value your friends, for your ties with them will give you strength._

_            I must ask a favor of you.  Lately, demons have been breaking into the mortal plain.  Yes, unbelievable as it sounds, demons.  No, the wizards do not know.  They, like other mortals, believe them mythical.  They are real, however.  I cannot take care of this myself since there are other pressing matters to attend to._

_            I ask you to take care of these demons for me.  You will have help.  I won't let you go off alone.  For one thing, you are under my protection.  But there is another thing.  When I healed you, I gave you an extra gift.  This gift is a power called 'spirit energy'.  It is a type of magic, but not like the wizard's kind.  This type is an extension of your being in energy form rather than the casting of spells through the mind in combination with a wand.  You will be able to use this power to defeat them.  I left you a book on the topic.  The more you train and use it, the stronger it will grow.  You may wonder why I did not choose a wizard to do this task.  The answer is simple:  there is a threat over them already and also their narrow-mindedness would blind them.  You, I think, are a much better candidate.  Please accept this request.  I trust you will do well if you do.  _

Beneath the note was a small book:  Spirit Energy, A Guide.

            _Well, here's my chance to rid the world of weeds.  I'll do it.  She's done so much for me already.  It's the least I can do in return.  I have to accept responsibility.  It's part of what being a real man is all about._

***

It's Saturday and it's up!  Barely got it up in time.  I hate shopping, especially school shopping.  I did that yesterday so that's why it's a bit late.  Thanks to everyone who read this and please review!

We hear that they put Vernon in a mental institution.  As you can probably guess, Sirius wasn't the one who decided that.  We also find out that Petunia and Dudley are trying to piece together their lives again.  Culinary Delights is the restaurant owned by the Whitbakers and since Petunia seemed to cook a lot of things, I made her a chef.  I hoped you guys liked Alyce, Cami, and Jerry.

Dudley certainly showed his old friends that he isn't one to mess around with.  The four were huge cowards, so of course they wouldn't stay to fight.  Dudley isn't going to let people like that get away with what they do.  He especially wasn't going to hear them make fun of Cami, who couldn't really help her condition.  We also find out the task that the Dark Lady Melania has given Dudley:  get rid of the demons coming in.  Those said demons will eventually make an appearance in Grey Tower, but for the moment Dudley's going to deal with them.  My advice to readers:  watch Yu Yu Hakusho.  It's a great anime.  

Some of you did get whom Mirage Searle was connected to, so kudos to you!

Chapter 14 will feature training with Zylle and the introduction of the feared Professor Lavinia Coulter!  Hopefully up by Tuesday, I might be too busy on Monday.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**Caroline Hal:  **Harry isn't going to go back to Hogwarts this September, as he will be more concerned with another event that will start in that month.  Ron, Hermione, and the rest of them will head back for their fifth year though.__

**angelbaby:  **I'm happy to know that you have been following the story even if you did forget to review.  Black Wolf does remind us a lot of Snape, doesn't he?  But I bet Snape doesn't stand around loudly cursing at every student passing by him.  Yes, you are one of the lucky few that got that hint!  Congratulations!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**sris:  **Yes, he is, but he really didn't have a choice in the matter.  That binding charm did it automatically.  The history of the wizarding world is interesting which is why I was always upset when Harry had History of Magic classes.  Binns made it so boring!  Gran's is a much better version, I think, even though she didn't go into great detail.  Mirage does sound like Snape, doesn't she?  I'm happy to know you liked Dudley's character.  He does say that he doesn't want to act like his father at all and we do see the major change in his attitude.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**theauthorthatwrites:  **A chapter on what's happening with them will be coming soon so don't worry about that.  I'm not abandoning them!  Snape is building up to a person of importance, which will be revealed much later.  Thanks for reading!

**Tropic:  **Good to know people found the history of Grey Tower interesting.  Thanks for reading!

**THE-PENGUIN2:  **Erebus, Nyx, and Thanatos were the name of gods in Greek mythology, but they really weren't looked into that much.  Their personalities as well as Melania and Pheta were all a figment of my imagination.  Harry might have a run in with the others, but of course, he won't realize that they're trying to reach him.  But they might not recognize him.  Harry Potter doesn't have gray eyes.  I barely made the deadline, but I did it!

**ruby-lake24:  **I'm happy you like what I did with my characters.  Death as a comedian struck me as interesting, so I put him in.  We might see him in action sometime soon.  I may go to a Harry/Hermione pairing, but this fic won't have romance in it.  It's about Harry adjusting and fitting into the elemental community.  Yep, she is and that would make him part elemental.  He might learn how to control it.  Congratulations on getting it!  But the Mirage Searle bit won't be that important at the moment.  Later, it will be very big.  

**chris-warren876:  **Harry will make friends with a girl, but romance will not be featured too much in this story.  Thanks for reading!

**Nasser Kenshin Himura:  **He learns the beginning of controlling the elements next chapter, so stay tuned for that!  I included stuff from Order of the Phoenix since I needed some canon for fifth year.  I also kept Sirius alive since he's one of my favorite characters and I was very upset when he died.  Thanks for reading and reviewing.  Also thank you for telling me your opinion on pairing.

**Noctem:  **It isn't completely breaking down as Hedwig (White Owl) is keeping the block up, but Pheta is trying to get to Nuitari.  He'll certainly have a hard time of it trying to live in both.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again!

**WolfMoon:  **It's good to know you were looking forward to this one.  No, we don't know Mirage but she is connected to someone we know from Hogwarts.  It will become clear later, but not now.  The fate of Mirage Searle will be very important later.

**Arsenal:  **I did say that Hans was crazy.  Though I'd also love to have a chocolate tree in my backyard.  Dudley as you can see will have a role in this fic, though I may have to consider making a plan for a story featuring only him.  Nearly dying would change a person.  Spirit energy was going to come in sooner or later, that was a given for me.  Dudley as a wizard never struck me, as I figured with all his tantrums before he would have shown some sign of magic to begin with.  He won't get the title of spirit detective, but he'll do the job. 

**Prd2bAmerican18:  **I'm glad you liked the chapter!

**crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  **Action is a wonderful thing.  Thanks for reading/reviewing again!

**Jordan:  **Yep, he is so congratulations to you!  I won't go into it too much right now, but you are right.  The last clan will be very important later.  He doesn't know though.  Good to know you love this story!

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **You're very close when you said that Mirage reminded Harry of Snape.  The hints are there, just very hard to find.  And yes, that is the difference between them!  Thanks for reading again and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Zephyris:  **That's next chapter and I hope you will like it!

**Energeezer:  **I'm happy to know that this story has what you're looking for!  Why they won't send him to Hogwarts is explained in Chapter 12, not to mention they need to train his powers or else they'd get out of hand.  So you caught my little references to Greek and Roman history!  I've love history, especially those time periods, which is why I included it.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Renee Fay:  **Don't worry if you didn't review last chapter, we all forget once in a while.  Glad to know that you like Blue Leopard.  Erebus had a lot to deal with then, huh?  And I did say that Hans was insane and he's the only person in the world I think who would try to grow a chocolate tree outside of either the tropics or a greenhouse.  Hans' chocolate (and tree) will remain in the story.  As food though and Sarah did say she'd make her brownies.  Really?  Chocolate on cheese is good?  You remind me of my best friend:  she also does strange combinations with her food.  Eating lunch with her is always a blast.

**Dumbledore:  **Glad to know that you're happy the Raistlin will come into the story soon and thanks for your compliments!  There's definitely going to be more magic next chapter since Zylle is starting to teach Harry control.  Yes, the elementals do have add-ons to muggle technology.  Wind elementals have more of a connection to electricity than the fire elementals (though storms) so they will be able to turn on lights and as we will soon see Zylle's computer is almost inhumanly fast.  There are others and Harry will see them all.  Remember that unlike wizards, elementals embrace muggle technology.  Erebus, Nyx, and Thanatos are actual Greek gods, but they aren't referred to that much in mythology so I gave them personalities of their own.  Melania, Pheta, and some of the others are indeed created by myself.  Don't worry about long reviews I love them.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**crazyfanfictionfanatic:  **Thanks!

**Winternight:  **Chocolate is truly a wonderful thing, isn't it?  I have some ice cream so I'm good.  I'm happy to know you liked the last chapter, Oki.  Thanks for reading/reviewing and I hope you liked this one!

**fullsailnate:  **The descendant of Mirage will be very important later in this story and I probably will add more hints to who it is.  I really don't like perfect deities since if they were perfect:  why didn't they make humanity perfect.  Erebus, Nyx, and Thanatos were actual Greek gods, but they don't have that much of a role in Greek mythology.  I gave them their own personalities.  I hope you liked this chapter!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	14. Learning Something New

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter 14:  Learning Something New

            Nuitari was reading Metamorphosis Through Elemental Magic in the study when he heard Zylle come in.  Over the past two days he had lived in number 14 Zephyrus Court, he noticed that the door opening and Gran's sarcastic quips usually marked Zylle's return from work.  She had managed to get her schedule changed, though it was not without a little difficulty.  Her boss was upset that his best worker would not be able to put as many hours in as she used to.  Mr. Kincaid did eventually relent since he knew Zylle to be reliable.  Now she worked a normal seven to five workday.  Some of her coworkers had been upset about this.  It was probably because they now had to work harder.

            But today was the day.  Zylle promised him this morning before she left that they would start after dinner.  While she was gone, he practiced metamorphosis with Gran.  _She wasn't kidding when she said it was hard._  He had no trouble with the theory; it was doing it that was hard.  First, he had to visualize the object that he planned to transform as the thing he wanted it to be.  Then to change it, he had to tap into his elemental magic and use it to do the job.  Problem:  he had absolutely no experience reaching into that well of power.  So, plainly put, he was stuck.  At the end of fifty fruitless tries, he literally screamed out in frustration.  In doing so, he managed to turn the apple into an orange.  He was happy, but Gran had to burst his bubble by saying he did it wrong.

            "What, pray tell, did I do wrong?"  Yes, he was annoyed.  "It's an orange now!"

            Gran returned his sarcasm.  "Then, lad, I'll tell **thee**.  Or, rather, show **thee**."  She took a knife from the knife block on the kitchen counter and with one swift cut, sliced the 'orange' in half.  The inside of it was not that of the pulpy slices of an orange, but the smooth white of an apple.  "You can't force it out using anger," she scolded.  "Elemental magic is made up of two parts:  you and the element itself.  You need to control the part that is yourself and at the same time accept that you can't master it."

            "That is both complicated and contradictory."

            "Isn't everything?  You'll get more practice with Zylle tonight."

            "Then why I am I learning this **now**?"

Gran shrugged, "You'll have an idea of what to do later.  If you get the main part of the process down now, you won't have as much trouble.  That way you'll get to the important parts more quickly."

            Nuitari thought about this.  "That," he admitted, "makes sense."

            "I know.  Here have a brownie."  She handed him a luscious chocolate square.  "Chocolate cures everything."

            In the end, he did manage to turn a carrot into a tomato, but it exhausted him greatly.  Gran said it was a good start and gave him another brownie for his efforts.  _I have to try harder because those brownies are great!_  He decided to check out the library opposite the study on the second floor to pass the time until dinner, which was only in about an hour.  He figured it would be a small modest one, but he was sadly mistaken.  It was humongous:  with books of all sizes, shapes, and ages.  _Apparently, someone in Zylle's family was a great lover of books since they bothered to charm the room to be larger than it would seem to be from the outside._  Nuitari got the hang of the sorting system fairly quickly:  each case was devoted to a specific topic.  He was sidetracked while in the history section.  A book 'coincidentally' fell off a shelf there.  Seeing as the house wanted him to read it and would find some way of making him read it at any rate, he took it along with Metamorphosis Through Elemental Magic into the study.  The book the house had chosen for him was Wizards and Elementals:  The Schism by Cilla Atmeadows.  _Smart house.  I didn't know it had good taste in books.  _He was confronted with an extensive table of contents as soon as he opened it.  Nuitari decided to go to the end, where it cataloged the more recent of wizard-elemental interactions.__

_            In modern times, contact with the organized wizarding community is very rare.  Elementals have kept to themselves more and more over the years because of both tradition and the difference in philosophy.  As wizards continue to immerse themselves with wand magic **(for more information on the types of magic, refer to Ivan Volkasky's Divisions of Magic)**, the more elementals conceal themselves from them.  Elementals, unlike wizards, are very involved in non-magical society.  Elementals ten do intermarry with muggles and as a result, their technology is often used and modified.  Wind elementals with water potential and some water elementals with slight control over wind can manipulate electricity and make their machines run more efficiently, for example.  In many elemental households with elementals with power over electricity, muggle technology is a common site.  The only case of an appliance that does not interact well with elemental tampering is the microwave.  It is highly advised to leave this machine be.  They have a habit of exploding._

_            The only notable time during the twentieth century where there have been major wizard-elemental relations were during the Phantom Wars of the late 1930s and most of the 1940s.  Dark Lord Adlar Grindelwald became extremely interested in elemental magic after he discovered his younger brother, a very weak wizard, to have an affinity towards earth.  After much experimentation, Grindelwald created a type of crystal that gave the possessor complete control of their element.  Using this, he tempted many elementals to join his side in the war to dominate Europe.  He then began to deploy his recruited elementals against those who opposed him._

_            Out of the twenty-five clans of Grey Tower, six remained to stand against Grindelwald.  These were the Eikou-Taiyou Unicorns, the Rekka-Ki Chimeras, the Seijaku-Shinrin Tigers, the Kiri-Kaminari Falcons, the Arashi-Tenku Dragons, and the Sekai-Kage Wolves.  The clans usually took in those from Phantom-loyal clans who did not agree with Grindelwald's views.  The six clans often intercepted Phantom elementals before they could attack Aurors or wizarding settlements.  It was extremely hard to keep up secrecy due to the fact that natural disasters are obviously very hard to ignore.  This is why a majority of Shining elementals (those who opposed the Phantoms) learned some mind magic, enough to erase memories.  The most adept of the mind magic employers were the Sekai-Kage, as it was highly useful in their field of expertise.  _

_            After the wars, elementals retreated back into the shadows.  A few elementals did marry wizards and witches, but there weren't that many.  The difference in magic was often too great.  The most notable of these wizard-elemental marriages are those of Conrad Ravencroft (Green Dragon of the Arashi-Tenku), Derek Montague-Hillary (Red Chimera of the Rekka-Ki), and Lais Flanders (Green Chimera of the Rekka-Ki).  Those wizards or witches who do marry an elemental are sworn to secrecy.  And so, a majority of wizards continue to live their lives without even knowing of the existence of elementals…_

It was extremely helpful and now it strongly occurred to him that he was lucky to have seen all that he had already seen of these hermit-like people.  Obviously, elementals did not think highly of wizarding society, judging from the text and what Gran had said (or hadn't) on the subject.  Nuitari wasn't too eager to go back to the wizarding world, but was keyed up learn elemental magic.  Unlike wand magic, there seemed to be very few limits.

            So when dinner was done, he was out of his seat before the plates were cleared.  Zylle lead him down to the basement.  As soon as she opened the door, the lights downstairs flickered on.  _Zylle must be able to control electricity._  At his curious glance, she explained.  "I did that.  Wind elementals can use electricity if they have water potential.  I used both wind and water in combination."

            "I read about it in a book before.  I thought you had a block against water."

            "I can't use it because of that block, but I have the potential of a fourth class in water.  So even if I can't really employ it, I can still use it indirectly."

            "We're finally starting?"  _Yes, please say yes._

            "Yep, kiddo.  We're starting your training now."  He jumped up into the air, whooping for joy.  He heard Gran laughing in the kitchen.  Zylle smirked.  "I see that you are more than happy to start."

            "I can't wait."

            The basement had hardwood floors.  On the walls hung various weapons, most being swords with wicked edges.  Zylle caught him looking.  "The basement is usually used for training.  Those swords on the walls are practice blades."

            "Practice blades?  Those seem too sharp to just be 'practice blades'."

            She smiled evilly.  "Trust me, they'll shatter once you hit them with one of **our **weapons.  Now we need to begin.  Ready"

            "Ready." 

            They stood facing each other in the middle of the room.  Nuitari tensed himself.  Zylle started her lecture.  "First, you need to tap into the power itself.  Elemental magic is made up of two parts.  We control one part:  we are part of the element and can manipulate it.  The other part is nature itself:  chaotic and sentient in its own way.  In order to use the power, an elemental needs to find his or her balance between these two forces."

            "Ever thought of being a teacher?  You explained it much better than Gran did."

            She laughed.  "Mum has a habit of over-simplifying."

            "Makes good brownies though."

            "Getting back on topic," Zylle said seriously.  "Calm yourself – relax!  Now think of your element.  Think of wind and how it connects to you.  Close your eyes if you have to."

            Nuitari complied.  _Wind…rushing.  Free.  No boundaries.  No people judging who you are.  Happiness._  He could even feel the air around him.

            Zylle interrupted his thoughts.  "I think you're doing pretty well for a first-timer.  Floating is very advanced."

            He opened his eyes and looked down to see where she was standing, an amused grin on her face.  _Hold it.  Why is she down there?!  _He glanced both up and down.  He was only three inches away from the ceiling beams.  His feet were hovering in mid-air, nothing between or beneath them.  Unfortunately, he lost his control because of his shock and fell hard to the ground.

            "See?  It isn't that hard."

            "Oww…"

            "It's a good thing you just floated.  For a second, I thought you were going to transport yourself somewhere else using a whirlwind."

            "Have I done that?"

            "You have done it before, but I think you were reacting to something.  You also could have done what I did when I first began tapping into the wind."

            "What did you do?"

            "Created a tornado."

            "A tornado?"

            "Yes.  Most people do something resembling a natural occurrence when they start out.  Some start fires; others cause their houses to flood.  Hans claims he caused his entire house to split in two because he caused an earthquake."

            "You seem to do it instantly.  Why did it take me so long?"

"Simple, you just started.  It's not like you're going to just get it in a snap.  Give or take about three or four days and you should be doing it without even thinking.  You seem to have a skill with flying, so let's work on that."

            After a fierce two hours, Nuitari had mastered reaching into and using his wind magic without as much concentration as before.  He was still slow, but it was better than before.  A half an hour after that, he got down the basics of flying.  The trick was to use the wind to push yourself off the ground, push you in the right direction, and make yourself light.  Zylle said that many wind elementals had trouble with flying, as they had to do all this while keeping an eye on where they were going.  Her father, a high level wind elemental himself, was said to have a lot of trouble flying.  So he was very ecstatic that he could do something that a lot of people couldn't.  He was soon zooming around the room having the time of his life.

            That is, until Zylle started to catapult things at him.  Many of those said thrown objects were the practice blades.  "What the hell?!"  He barely missed being impaled from the side by a dagger with a gold hilt.

            Zylle flicked her hand.  A broadsword came hurtling at him fast from the other side, followed by a Japanese sword from behind.  He moved to the side to avoid the first one and did a mid-air flip to avoid the latter, both just in time.  "Come on!  Do you mind tell me why you are doing this?!"  

            She scowled.  "Wind elementals rely a lot on speed, both on the ground and in the air!  You have to be fast!  Use the wind part of you and speed yourself up!  If you can manage to dodge these quickly while flying, then you'll have no problem on the ground!"

            Nuitari could only look at her dumbfounded before he got sent sprawling to the floor.  Gingerly rubbing his head in pain, he noticed a staff floating in midair.  Apparently, that was the object that beamed him from behind.  "Let me guess," he said sarcastically.  "Elementals have a habit of using dangerous weapons and have never heard of throwing a pillow?"

            "Yes and no.  We enjoy pillow fights as much as the next person."

            "Swell."

            "Take a break, kid," she said as she helped him up.  "Now, how long have you been there?"

            Nuitari was going to ask what she was talking about when a cold feminine voice answered back, "Long enough.  I see the rumors are true then."

            At the top of the stairs stood a woman, leaning against the railing.  She was quite good-looking with styled chestnut hair, but her blue eyes were icy and she had an amazing sneer on her face.  She walked down to where they were effortlessly even though she was wearing very high-heeled sandals.  He stepped back a little as she narrowed her glacial eyes at him, peering through gold-rimmed spectacles sitting at the tip of her nose.  She nodded for some reason.  "He's got ability, I'll give him that.  If he can effectively use it remains to be seen."

            _Okay, I'm confused.  Who is this lady?  Why is she so…ice-like?  Ice.  Crap, this must be her._  Zylle prodded the woman to continue, "I know I'll regret asking, but what do you think about the whole situation?"

She didn't answer.  She just opened her hand, where shining clear crystals sparkled at him.  His instincts were screaming at him to get away and **fast**.  _Uh oh.  Trouble.  _The lady smirked while Zylle looked on with an exasperated expression.  She blew the ice crystals at him.

            _I think it's best I listen to my unconscious mind here._  He jumped back twice, using his wind magic to speed himself up like Zylle instructed.  When he landed, Nuitari's eyes grew wide.  Sticking out of the floor were huge icicles, jagged and wickedly sharp.  "Okay," he said lightly.  "I now see what you mean about speed and dodging."

            Zylle smiled at him beatifically.  "Good.  You will have to forgive her because unfortunately she's like that.  Night, this is Professor Lavinia Coulter.  Vinny, this is Nuitari.  We call him 'Night' for short."

            He nodded respectfully towards the most feared woman in all of Grey Tower.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor Coulter."  _Do not show fear.  She's measuring you up by scowling and sneering at you.  Don't show fear but at the same time don't show disrespect…how in Annuvin do I know this?  Who cares?  Don't show fear.  Don't show fear.  _He repeated this mantra over and over in his head.__

"Manners, that's rare," the Blue Dragon snapped.  "I assume you received your name from Mirabelle?  Silly girl, just like her mother. 'Night' is better and I assume you got that from Mirai."

            "How did you know, Professor?"  When he asked this, he tried to make sure he didn't sound neither childish nor afraid.  He hoped he succeeded.

            "She called me about you," Professor Coulter tersely replied.  She turned to Zylle.  "He'll do well with you since his abilities seem to be very close to yours.  You'll be teaching him the Windcaller Jin technique, I suppose?  Not the usual, overused Tornado's Tempest?"

            "Of course I am!  There's no sense in **not** teaching him it.  Besides, the Tornado's Tempest technique is as you said:  overused and overrated.  I think my family's technique would be better."  Zylle looked insulted that the professor even asked that question.

            Professor Coulter ignored this and then asked, "Good, I hate that method.  It's boring.  But do you think he can handle the Windcaller Jin?  He looks pretty weak and that kind of technique requires a lot of strength and skill."

            _She thinks I'm weak!  _He was offended at this remark.  Then he looked down at his skinny frame, thin arms, and legs.  _Okay, she has a point._  He then caught her eye and met her glare for glare.  "I can try, can't I?"

            To his surprise, she smiled at him.  "Well, then you had better try.  I hate quitters.  And I think I like you."  With that she left with a puff of cold air and some snow.  It melted very quickly though.

            "What was she talking about?"

            "I told you before that you'd learn combat, right?"  She waited for his nod.  "There are different styles and techniques that you can learn.  Most wind elementals learn the Tornado's Tempest style of fighting.  I don't.  I use a combination of my father's technique and a bit of my mother's to have the Windcaller Jin.  That's what you will be learning.  She was concerned that you might take the usual style instead of doing something different and since you look pretty weak, she figured you might not be able to handle learning it."

            "I resent the weak statement."

            "It does have a basis in fact.  You can't deny that."

            "True."  _She has me there._  "She said she liked me?"

            "Personally, Night, I have no idea what to think about that.  She rarely likes anyone at the first impression, typically thinking the worst of everyone.  I've known her since I was seven, and it took me **fourteen** years to get her not leer at me every time I entered the same room.  And that was five years after our open enmity was called to a truce.  Before that, she always did that same attack on me.  I think it's called 'Shards of Winter'."

            "Should I be honored or scared?"

            "Scared.  Very scared."

            "I can't believe you still have not found him," spat Pheta.  "How hard can it be to find someone like him?"

            "Voldemort trembled.  "I'm sorry, lady.  But no matter what we do, we still cannot find him."

            "Try harder.  He isn't that far, I can still feel the link made by the death curse."

            "Right, my lady.  Any other orders?"

            "Yes, I will be gone for the next few days.  Do some muggle terrorizing if you wish, but locating the boy is our first priority.  Also keep an eye on Severus Snape."

            "Lady, I assure you that Severus Snape is loyal to our cause, much like his father was."

            "Don't question me, fool.  His father was indeed a dedicated servant, but that does not make the son the same.  His father took after his great-grandfather:  weak, easily manipulated, and power-hungry.  He, however, takes after his grandparents.  Therein lies the difference."

            "So you think he is a spy?"

            "It is a possibility.  Watch him.  Remember Voldemort:  never trust a wolf."  Pheta's image vanished from the seeing pool. 

            Voldemort left the chamber and shouted, "WORMTAIL!"

            The rat animagus stumbled nervously to his master's side in moments.  "You summoned me, my lord?"  His stuttering nearly made his words incomprehensible.

            "Keep an eye on Snape and report back to me if you find out anything suspicious."

            "Yes, master."  Wormtail transformed and scurried away.  

            Neither noticed a pair of eyes watching their every move.  A pair of eyes with hourglass pupils…

***

Hey everyone!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!  I got this up!  It took a while to proofread.  Worse, when I was done, MS Word just had to have an error.  My fingers…oww.  Then my older brother went on.  Triple whammy.  

Harry is now learning the basics of elemental magic.  As Zylle said, speed is very important for a wind elemental.  He's learning dodging in training for the combat part of it.  Zylle wasn't kidding when she said they were practice blades and Harry will soon learn what she means by 'one of **our** blades'.  Hope you liked Lavinia.  What do you know?  She happens to like Harry, on first impression no less.  Pheta is still searching for Harry as is the Order of the Phoenix, but Melania's not letting anyone find him.  Also, Voldemort is sending Wormtail to spy on Snape.

Next chapter should be up by Thursday.  It deals with a meeting that the gods will all have to attend.  Also, we'll find out what Voldemort thinks is 'fun'.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**AlL rOaDs LeAd To HeLl:  **Thanks for reading and reviewing.  Of course I'll take a look at your story!  I don't mind.  I'm honored that you asked me to!  

**Wolfmoon:  **Yes, school shopping.  I was really depressed.  My vacation is coming to an end!  That is a good idea though:  going to the library afterward.  Maybe I should try that.  Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**fullsailnate:  **I'm sorry if the chapter bored you, but we're back to Harry here!  It's good to know that Dudley is still a workable character.  A spin-off would be nice, but I want to concentrate on Elemental Genesis here.  If I do make another story, it'll divide up the amount of work I put into this story, not to mention making updates slower.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Dramicka:  **Don't worry about it!  I'm just happy you're still reading this!  Thanks for your compliments and for reviewing.

**crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  **I am happy you guys reviewed again!  I'm happy to know my updates keep getting better.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again!

**Zephyris:  **That is a weird coincidence!  Thanks for reviewing again!

**Kitta Baby:  **I'm happy you like this story's plot and characters.  3:30 in the morning!  I see I'm not the only insomniac here.  Dudley is going to be something like a demon slayer since he took Melania's offer to eliminate the threat.  No, neither of Hermione's parents will be an elemental.  There are wizards and witches that are related to elementals though.  Thanks for reading and I hope you review!  

**Blak n Blu:  **Thanks for your compliments, Blak!  Thanks for reading!  

**Mira-hime:  **I'm glad to know that you love the Yu Yu Hakusho bit.  Hiei is my favorite character because he makes fun of Kuwabara so much.  I love those scenes!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!  

**Crydwyn:  **I'm happy to know that you're hooked!  I decided to give Harry power (something not too cliché) and make him able to use it through training because it made more sense.  Besides, change isn't instantaneous:  it takes time.  There will be a lot of the gods in the next chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!

**Dara Maeko:  **It is rather long, isn't it?  We'll see what happens with Zylle and Sirius when the Order finds Harry later.  As you said, we will see.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!  I'm glad to know you love it.

**Shadow-Mistress:  **Yes, Yu Yu Hakusho does rule.  Hiei is my favorite character, too!

**theauthorthatwrites:  **Dudley is an important character, but the main MAIN character is Harry of course.  We get a peek at what Voldemort is doing here, but next chapter will have a lot of him in it.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Arsenal:  **I can never imagine Dudley as a wizard, but he will have his own talents.  As you can see, a little bit of water magic is needed for a wind elemental to harness electricity.  It also works the opposite way:  a water elemental needs some wind magic to the same.  Death Eaters will probably target him and Petunia for information about Harry's whereabouts, but Dudley will blow them away with his spirit attacks.  One of the focuses of the story is about how shortsighted and limited wizarding (wand) magic is.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again! 

**Himura:  **I'm sorry you find the chapters that tell about people other than Harry, but as you said:  they are important.  Thanks for continuing to read this though.  I really appreciate it.

**gaul1:  **As you can see, he is sort of immune to Lavinia's glare even if he doesn't remember how he knew how to deal with it.  School's a long way off (unlike here, unfortunately), but Hedwig will most likely follow Harry around when he does go.  She is his guardian and under orders to stay by him.  I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter!  

**Savi2070:  **It has been a while, but I'm glad you're back!  Yes, you are right about Mirage Searle.  Dudley's friends will definitely help him out on the demon front and I'm glad you like his character.  No, I won't kill you for saying it was cool.  Actually, I'm rather flattered.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!  

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **Subtle, aren't they?  It will all become clear in the end.  I'm just glad you enjoy the story.  Thanks! 

**Winternight:  **Hey, Oki!  I'm glad to see you've read/reviewed again!  They did say that Vernon would be treated well at the institution, so I doubt he'll lose some weight.  Sirius wanted to kill him, but Dumbledore foresaw that and sent other people along with him.  After all, he was just freed.  Harry won't get his memory back for a while, but there will be plenty of mischief!  Some of the new characters coming in are definitely fun.

**DaughterofDeath:  **Hope this satisfies your need for more!

**Prd2bAmerican18:  **Thank you!

**Porphyrophobic Grape:  **Thanks for your compliments and for reading/reviewing!  It's good to write about a decent Dudley Dursley for once.  Don't worry; we will get more on Sirius, the Weasleys, and Hermione soon.  Yes, they are trying to find him.  Good luck to them since Melania's keeping Harry hidden!  I love your pen name, by the way. 

**Angelis1:  **Don't worry about it, we all get have to drop everything and do something else once in a while.  I'm just happy you came back and read!  Thanks!

**Teneb:  **No, but you're very close!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!  I'm happy to know you love this fic.

**SilverStarlightAngel:  **Unfortunately, she didn't.  It is a pity that he doesn't know about his Wolf predecessors.  Dudley's friends will help him out on the demon front and get involved.  I wouldn't let him go in there alone!  Dudley and Harry will meet up again, but they won't know who the other is.  Harry, of course, has a reason.

**animeobsessedfan:  **Yu Yu Hakusho is a wonderful anime, though.  I don't think one of the characters will show up there though.  I'm glad you like this story!

**Gyr:  **You give the kind of reviews that authors dream off!  It's so long!  SSH!  You're way too close to the underlying plot of this!  Please keep it quiet.  You wouldn't want to ruin it for other readers.  Melania can't help but be sort of childlike in front her parents:  there are much more ancient and wiser than she is.  Besides, she knows that both of them have very bad tempers.  I'm happy you like the Underworld scenes.  We'll discover that Pheta is pretty high up when it comes to power in the hierarchy of the gods.  I hope this answered your questions about elementals and their involvement with Grindelwald.  Harry probably will make some interesting effects with combining wizarding magic and elemental magic, but at the moment he needs to learn how to use the elemental magic.  Dudley won't be in such a small range; Melania will help him do his job.  She said she would give him help and that help does allude to transport.  Dudley will be very important in the final battle and he should have a lot of experience by then.


	15. The Hall of Kings

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Fifteen:  The Hall of Kings

            A whispered voice said from the shadows, "Pheta has freed the captured Death Eaters, Lady Melania."

            She sighed as she adjusted her dark hair, swept up in a loose elegant French braid.  "I figured as much," she replied.  "She doesn't want her lackey to lose followers.  Also, by freeing them, it shows off the rising presence of the Death Eaters.  What did she advise Voldemort to do?"

            "She sent the rat after Severus Snape and to do what he wished while she was gone."

            Melania scowled at her reflection in the silver mirror.  "Wonderful.  A bloodbath is just what I need right now.  I would not worry about Snape.  Remus Lupin will catch Pettigrew as soon as the rat gets close enough and if not him, Sirius Black would.  Besides, the backstabber is more idiotic than a dumb seal on crack."

            "Have you ever seen a dumb seal on crack?  And how would you explain his successful deception of the wizarding community in the past?"

            "Cowardice and a sense of self-preservation are powerful tools.  And yes, I actually have seen a dumb seal on crack.  Blame it on Nat; you know how crazy he can be.  How is Tom?"

            "Getting suspicious about the increasing number of dead souls arriving.  Of course he noticed.  I believe he is wondering why you haven't seen him about it."

            "I can't let him know everything yet or it will endanger him.  Sometimes knowing too much can be just as hazardous as knowing too little."  She paused here.  "By the Almighty, I'm sounding like my aunt."

            "Your aunt is a very wise and respected lady."

            "She meddles in things and hardly ever lets something go exactly right.  Hence, acting like my dear aunt is a bad thing.  Can you watch the Order of the Phoenix?"

            "It won't be a problem.  Wizards here seem to be very short-sighted with very limited magic."

            "How true.  Rin has complained about it for centuries.  Thank you, Raistlin.  Wish me luck!"  Melania stood up from her seat in front of the mirror.  Her dress was a diamond-studded black, her usual choice of color, and accentuated by off-the-shoulder sleeves.  "I'm going to need it.  I hate going to these things!"

            The man standing unobtrusively to the side asked in that same quiet voice, "Then why do you go?"  He had golden skin, shoulder-length white hair, and observed her with alert gold eyes.  These eyes were like her own:  strange.  Instead his were a startling gold with hourglass shaped pupils.

            "I'm obligated."

            "Thanatos will be there to stand by you."

            "Knowing my dear brother, he will be asleep the entire time.  That isn't exactly helpful."

            "Then I do wish you luck.  It seems as if you need as much luck as you can get."

            She teleported to the Hall of Kings with little difficulty, but she had enough reluctance to make up for it.  The Hall of Kings was a palace in the third highest level of the Light Realms, Nirvana.  As one who was the queen of a dark land, Melania hated being here.  She had a responsibility to though.  _Think.  It could be worse.  It could always be held in Elysium.  _She shuddered here.  _Heaven isn't that bad, even though it's the highest level.  But something please have mercy and kill me if I ever have to go into Elysium._  She walked into the main hall of the sprawling structure.

            The Hall was made entirely of a shiny white marble that made her cringe.  Combine that with the large amount of light pouring in from the gigantic windows and she wanted to scream.  The people in white already sitting at the golden round table glanced her way as she walked in, but continued to talk amongst themselves once they saw that she did not respond to their venomous glares.  A blue-haired man in teal robes nodded in recognition as she passed while a dark-skinned woman with green braids and emerald gown waved.  Spying Thanatos sleeping with his head and arms at the far end of the table, she took the vacant gilded seat next to him.  Shaking him harshly, she said, "Nat.  NAT, WAKE UP!"

            "Wha…oh it's just you, Mel," Thanatos groggily mumbled. 

            "Why were you asleep?!  You're embarrassing us!"

            "Who cares?"  He yawned loudly and stretched.  In the process, he knocked a full wine glass onto the white dress of the goddess who was unwillingly forced to sit next to him.  She flipped her perfect 'blonde' hair and haughtily moved to the other side of the table.  As soon as she sat there, she immediately started whispering to another blonde.  _I hate Pheta look-alikes.  Three centuries ago, that girl was a redhead.  Children_.  "We're here because we are dark deities who have jobs that actually affect these idiots.  You know that the only people who have anything important to say are you, Rin, Pheta, Aquarius, Kybele, and myself.  The other major light-born gods aren't here because they can think up great excuses while our dear relatives really don't give a damn.  These other morons here are just taking up space since they think they are entitled to be here as 'light-born'.  Pyramis just doesn't know what do with himself anymore and Gyelia probably forgot.  Why the Almighty doesn't tell them to go away is beyond me."

            "That is because the Almighty isn't like Dad or Black Wolf."

            "Which may or may not be a bad thing.  While it is nice not to be called 'stupid' or 'guacamole-heads', we would get a lot more done."

            "That's the truth," chuckled a female voice behind them.  The pretty brunette in the canary yellow kimono took a seat beside Melania, grinning.  "I don't even know why He even bothers to hold these meetings anymore."

            Melania smiled back.  "I suppose you have some news, Rin?"

            "Of course, I do!  I'm the goddess of magic!"  Lowing her voice and checking for eavesdroppers needlessly, she said, "There is something important I need to bring up, but there is something else.  Rumors are going around that Pheta is going to suggest something big.  Real big."  Amber brown eyes inquiring, she asked, "Does this have something to do with you?"

            "Most likely, if I know her."

            Thanatos leaned back in his chair.  "We know her well alright.  Now we only need her to arrive to begin this waste of time.  Hey!  Dumb people!"  The light-born gods all looked at him with loathing.  "Glad to know you know who you are!  Where's the prima donna you people worship?!  I'm so bored that I think I should just cause another Black Death!"

            As soon as he finished his exclamation, the lights suddenly dimmed.  Everyone glanced immediately at Melania, but knew she had nothing to do with it when they saw her make a face.  _Must she always do this?_

            A woman who would probably turn the heads of most men walked in, glowing brightly.  _Figures.  She always just has to make a huge entrance.  _Wearing a sheer white gown, she sat in between Pyramis, god of fire, and that 'blonde' from before.  "Sorry, I kept everyone waiting," she said with a voice like honey.  

            Thanatos sarcastically replied, "I'm sure you are.  What were you doing, preparing that little show?  You did a wonderful impression of a flashlight, I'll give you that."

            Pheta glowered at him and was about to shoot back another retort, but she was interrupted.  A majestic voice that came from no one present boomed out, "PHETA, PLEASE ARRIVE ON TIME.  THANATOS, SHOW SOME RESPECT FOR THE GODDESS OF LIGHT."

            "I will when she stops being a self-centered-"

            "ENOUGH," cut in the Almighty.  "I DO NOT NEED CONFLICT AS THERE IS ENOUGH TO DEAL WITH ALREADY.  TELL ME THE STATE OF YOUR APPOINTED TASKS."

            Melania copied her brother and settled in for a long wait.  Since she was one of the last to speak, she knew that she was going to be bored.  She really didn't give a damn on what the god of marriage thought about the high divorce rate in the world.  Thanatos was already off in dreamland next to her while Rin was playing with a piece of string.  The green-haired Kybele was reading a nature magazine while the blue-robed Aquarius was feeding some fish in a tank with Pyramis watching with interest.  Pheta, or course, was sitting prim and proper in her seat.  She was hanging onto every word.  She reached into her long loose sleeves and fiddled around until she found what she was looking for.  Melania had enchanted all her clothing with long sleeves to carry things so that she did not have to hold everything in her hands or in a bag.  She opened the booklet and clicked her erasable pen.  _It's at these times I think humans are geniuses.  Crossword puzzles are amazing._

            "AQUARIUS, GOD OF WATER.  SPEAK."

            A fiercely unremarkable two days had passed already.  Melania always agreed with her brother when it came to the topic of the minor light-born gods:  they were just a waste of time.  One of them spent over six hours discussing something that she couldn't remember.  She stopped listening after three minutes of that god's speech.  The water god with the blue hair put away his fish and stood up to address the group.  "I really don't think I need to say anything.  We are not going to do anything about the state of the planet's waters anyway," he coldly stated, blue eyes narrowed.  He sat back down and paid no attention to the looks he was receiving from the others.  "I know what I said was probably disrespectful, but it is true."  _He has a point.  I really didn't think he had the nerve to say it, though._

            "KYBELE, GODDESS OF EARTH.  SPEAK."

            Like Aquarius, the dark-skinned woman also rose from her seat.  "I agree with Aquarius.  So I'm not going to bother saying anything as well.  Since nothing will be done there is no point.  Let us just get this over with."  _Go Kybele.  But it is odd you sided with Aquarius, as you tend to argue with him a lot.  _She refocused on the council meeting.  _What do you have to say, Pheta?_

            "PHETA, GODDESS OF LIGHT.  SPEAK."

            Pheta began her speech with a lecture.  "I can't believe that some of the people here have the gall to disrespect the Almighty-"

            "YES, STRIPPERS!"

            Everyone was startled out of their collective daze with this shout.  Thanatos rolled over in his sleep, a large smile on his face.  Melania tried to shake him awake, but he was to put it frankly 'dead to the world'.

            Aquarius smiled.  "Must be having a great dream."

            Pheta made a face of both disgust and disapproval.  "As I was saying-"

            "You weren't saying anything," Kybele broke in.  "Do you mind sparing us that nonsense and getting to the point?"

            The voice of the Almighty commanded, "APOLOGIZE."

            "Fine.  Sorry.  But for what is beyond me."  _Typical of her, she's always blunt.  _

Pheta's face contorted into an ugly grimace of rage before she masked it with an expression of hurt.  "It's alright."  _Great, she's doing the pity face.  She's so manipulative that it is sickening.  Watch the others take her side.  True to that thought, a majority of the deities present began to look at Kybele with hatred.  Aquarius didn't look all too concerned and Rin was still playing with that infernal piece of string.  _This is it.  I'm not coming next time.  This show is getting too old.  _"My followers have been getting killed by a demon and I'm very concerned with this.  Something must be done."_

            "I'm sure you are worried, you old hag!"  Thanatos was once again talking in his sleep.  Melania, however, found the statement to be highly appropriate for the situation.

            "MELANIA, GODDESS OF DARKNESS.  SPEAK."

            **Be careful.  If you openly oppose Pheta, Heaven won't take your side.**  _Guess I better listen to Dad.  He would know after all.  _She stood and clearly said, "I have nothing new to say that I haven't said before."  She pointed to her slumbering sibling.  "I think the same goes for my brother as well."

            "THANK YOU.  RIN, GODDESS OF MAGIC.  SPEAK."

            "Same old, same old.  But I do have a concern over the Staff of Kardis."

            "EXPLAIN."

            "As we all know, the Staff of Kardis is a powerful tool used for channeling vast amounts of chaotic, dark necromantic, and elemental magicks.  It was hidden in the tomb of a wise Egyptian pharaoh who realized the destructive power it could wield if in the wrong hands.  I think that tomb-breakers and archaeologists are getting too close to finding it.  My request is that we remove the staff to a safer location."

            "You can't be serious," Pheta drawled.  "We have much more important matters to deal with than moving some silly old staff."

            Melania raised an eyebrow.  "You think that relocating so dangerous a weapon such as the Staff of Kardis out of a place where the wrong hands can get to it is not important?  If you remember correctly, the Egyptian peasant Tazunses created the Sahara and Nubian deserts by handling the staff incorrectly.  He wasn't even trying to do anything with it in the first place; he was just using it as a walking stick.  Do you really think we can afford to ignore this?"

            Pheta twirled one of her golden curls around her pinky finger.  "I doubt any of the mortals are smart enough to find it.  Besides, I have my own suggestion to make."  She made a dramatic pause before continuing.  "I suggest that all descendants of immortals be eliminated."

            The shock of this mere sentence was so great that even the sleeping Thanatos woke up to ogle at the light goddess.  Aquarius said in a low voice what everyone was thinking.  "That's insane."

            "Hardly," Pheta replied.  "I don't see why we should let them remain living.  It is a disgrace for a god to have a mortal descendant and many of them just cause trouble for us anyway.  We should take care of them now while there are so few of them."

            Melania was appalled.  _Oh crap.  She can't do that!_  "That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life!"  Instantly all the light gods fixed her with murderous glares.  She had enough, though.  "All of you idiots stay out of it!  Your opinions hardly account for anything since not a single one of you has one of your own!"  She turned to the smirking Pheta.  "What you are implying is that we kill about fifty mortals just so you can feel better about yourself!  That's absurd!  These are living people!"  The room was soon shrouded in a thick darkness as a result of her agitation.

            "I think it is a great idea."

            "Need I remind you," cut in Rin, "that you don't have any mortal descendants? Some of us do!"

            A minor earthquake accompanied Kybele's shout of dissent.  "We can't allow you to do that!  They are of our blood after all!"

            "SILENCE!"  Everyone quieted down immediately as the Almighty spoke.  "YOUR SUGGESTION IS DENIED, PHETA.  I WILL CONSIDER YOUR REQUEST, RIN.  THIS COUNCIL MEETING IS ADJOURNED."

            Kybele and Aquarius nodded meaningfully to her as they left.  _At least some people see my point of view.  Rin smiled at her before disappearing with a sharp crack.  Pyramis tried to catch her eye, but he was soon dragged away with the other light-born gods.  She turned to her older brother, who was now thankfully awake but still seated.  "Aren't you leaving?"_

            "I'll leave in a second.  I just need to ask something first."

            "Suit yourself."  With that, she shrugged and exited Nirvana by teleportation.

            "YOU ARE ALONE.  ASK YOUR QUESTION, THANATOS."

            "You know what is going on.  Why aren't you doing anything about it?  Practically everything is at stake because of what she is doing."

            "I HAVE MY REASONS."

            "I'd love to hear them."

            "DON'T BE IMPUDENT."

            "I'm a dark god which means I think.  That means I'm different from the light gods.  Unlike them, I don't follow you because you are high and powerful and also not through blind devotion.  I was born from Erebus and Nyx, dark deities themselves.  The Universe itself created the dark gods, not you.  So I don't have to follow your orders if I don't want to.  So I'm not being impudent.  Now what are your reasons?"

            "ONE REASON:  I CANNOT INTERVENE."

            "You can't?!"

            "IF I DID INTERFERE, EVERYTHING WOULD BE RUINED.  THE EMNITY BETWEEN PHETA AND YOUR SISTER MUST COME TO AN END WITHOUT MY INVOLVEMENT OR IT WILL BACKFIRE."

            "Who told you that?"

            "YOUR AUNT."

            "Figures.  Aunt Destiny always messes things up."

            Voldemort let a smile grace his snake-like face as he watched the small town be devoured by red flame.  The muggle village of Hilton would be gone by the morning, which should arrive in a mere three hours.  It would be quite a sight.  What would be even more amusing would be to see how that idiot Fudge was going to explain this one away.  He could not use Sirius Black as a scapegoat anymore since Wormtail had been captured before.  He had put the Cruciatus curse on the coward for a full five minutes for that screw-up.  He did not kill him though:  he may be a weakling, but the animagus had its uses.  His smile grew wider as he heard the rustle of leaves behind him.  Without turning around, he said, "Now where do you think you are going?  Do you think that you can escape?"

            The muggle tried to run for it, but he was too slow.  Before he knew it, he was being held up in the air.  Thin white fingers were choking the life out of him.  He tried to kick the monster in an effort to get away, but it was in vain.  The demon's red eyes were shining maliciously.  "Isn't it wonderful?  My followers aren't here.  That means I can kill you using my own power instead of through weak human methods."  A sword appeared in his raised free hand.  It was made from a strange dark red metal and glittered fiercely in the light of the burning down.  Raising the blade high in the air, he brought it down on the wide-eyed defenseless man.

            For a moment, every living thing nearby stopped as a bloodcurdling shriek rang clear through the destruction.

            "Death Eaters."

            "Auror Orville, this can't have been done by Death Eaters.  They are gone, disbanded.  The Ministry says that You-Know-Who isn't back.  It's all a farce."

            The middle-aged Auror looked back at the young woman with a glare.  She was training to be an Auror like him and was trying to gain some experience by tagging along.  In his book, she was a thorn in his side.  He had to fight down the urge to stun her every time she mentioned the Ministry.  "Don't be dumb, Prewett.  Only Death Eaters could do something like this."

            "The Ministry says they aren't back."

            "The Ministry says, the Ministry says!  That's all you say!  Don't you see that I don't care what the Ministry says?!"  He continued to yell at her while she took a few steps back in fear.  "The Ministry is full a bunch of paper-pushing idiots who rarely take a step away from their desks in their entire lives!  They haven't been out here, in the field!  Don't be naïve!  Who else could have done this?!  Sirius Black?!  Open your eyes!"

            "Dumbledore is doing this!"

            He rolled his eyes.  _Youngsters, won't they ever learn?_  "Explain to me **why** Albus Dumbledore would murder an entire village of innocent muggles for a hoax."

Prewett was spared from answering by frantic shouts.  Both of them sprinted to the hill overlooking the town.  An Auror, looking very shaken and sick, waved them over.  "Orville!  Thank God!  You need to take a look at this.  It's horrible – a body – it's sickening."  The man rushed passed them to a bunch of trees where they soon heard the sounds of him retching.  

Another Auror, pale but still keeping his last meal down, came to them.  "Maybe you shouldn't see it.  It's disgusting."

"Show me."  The Auror sighed and led him to the site.  Prewett was at Orville's heels, looking very apprehensive.

            Orville later regretted that order.  The corpse of the man was cut clean in half, lengthwise.  The edges of the cut were slightly charred, but the look of terror was clear on the man's face.  Both sides of it, that is.

            "That," he said to Prewett, "wasn't done by Death Eaters."

***

Sorry about the delay.  As many people probably know, there was a huge blackout in the eastern United States yesterday.  Nothing was on.  The electricity came back around two or three o'clock in the morning Eastern Standard Time, but it's very limited.  I'll say one good thing about the blackout though:  the view of the stars last night was fantastic.  Thanks for reading and please review!

In this chapter, we get to meet several new characters, many of them gods.  First, there is Raistlin Majere (from the Dragonlance series) and he's apparently working for Melania.  Then there are Kybele, Aquarius, Pyramis, Rin, and the Almighty.  Pheta certainly puts up quite an act, doesn't she?  The Staff of Kardis will be important later.  And isn't it interesting that it is in Egypt?  Who do we know works in Egypt?

Yes, Pettigrew and those other Death Eaters were freed from Ministry custody.  Pheta knew they had their usefulness, so she sent them loose.  We'll hear more about it when we drop in on the Order of the Phoenix.  Voldemort did quite a number on that poor man at the end.  I didn't want to give too many details and let your imaginations do the work.  Orville and Prewett symbolized the two camps that the Ministry is divided into now:  those who believe the Death Eaters have returned and those who are in denial.  

Just a little explanation of what Thanatos meant at the end.  The Almighty did not create the dark gods.  The Universe itself created them as a balance to the Almighty's 'light-born' gods.  The Universe created Erebus and Nyx, Melania and Thanatos' parents, as well as Destiny (Erebus' sister).  Since the Almighty did not make the dark gods, they don't have to listen to him.  There are many more dark gods, but we haven't seen them since they don't bother going to the council.  There are also a lot more 'light-born' gods, but as Thanatos said 'they think up great excuses'.  I'll probably put up a diagram or something like that when we see more of them.  

Next chapter should be up by either Sunday or Monday.  I'm not sure since no one knows about the electricity thing.  I'm not sure whether to go back to Harry or to see what the Order of the Phoenix is doing.  I'll think of something.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**Tropic:  **I just hate it when Fanfiction.Net does that.  That sometimes happens to me when I read some favorite stories of my own.  I figured that if Petunia could make a 'violet pudding' like she did in book 2, then she could certainly make other things.  We will see Dudley again and his new powers will feature.  Thank for reading and reviewing!

**Jordan:  **I'm happy to know that you want more.  Harry will be flying again because as you can see, he likes to fly.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  **I hope you like this chapter as well!  Thanks for reviewing again!  Don't worry; I don't mind James and his outbursts.  I find them amusing.

**Zaz:  **Thanks for pointing that out!  That was a horrible mistake.  It's fixed now, but thanks for letting me know about that error.  Thanks for reviewing!

**Arsenal:  **Most readers do have an idea on what Voldemort thinks is fun.  We'll see Dudley again soon and his friends will be involved.  I have the same view on Kuwabawa as you, though I would love to see his reaction if he found out Yukina was Hiei's sister.  I'll be sure to look the story up.  I really don't mind pairings that much as long as the story isn't slash. 

**Quatre Winner:  **Yep, Lavinia Coulter's attack is from Yu Yu Hakusho.  It would have been nice to have a little crossover, but I want to keep it central on Harry Potter.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**gaul1:  **Yes, Lavinia does have some favorites.  Harry, to his chagrin, will become one of them.  However, not all of them act like Malfoy.  We'll see what kind of people she favors when he goes to school.

**Caroline Hal:  **I'm glad you like Flying!Harry.  Thanks for your encouragement and for reviewing again!

**fullsailnate:  **Picking out a book would be easier if our bookshelves did that for us.  It would certainly help me out a lot.  I'm glad you like Professor Coulter!  Tough, isn't she?  Her favoritism towards Night in school will be both bad and good as we will see when he goes.  I bet now everyone knows what that means because of that hint.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again!

**Dara Maeko:  **Hyper, aren't you?  Thanks for reading and reviewing again!

**Lu:  **Wow, this was a long review!  Or rather, reviews.  I'm glad that you like my style of writing.  I do have a limit on how long my chapters are though.  A 56K modem can only go so fast.  I'll be sure to check out that manga.  Zylle is centering a lot on Harry's wind power because he's very powerful in that element.  Sarah will soon take an interest in his other abilities, but they want him to get the hang of tapping into his power with an element he has a lot of.  The other clans will take an interest in him, as we will see when we go back to Harry later.  The blocks are very complicated so I can't blame you.  It means that you have the potential to use another element, but something has influenced you against it and blocked you from using it.  It's all in the mind.  For example, Harry got a low reading for the earth element because he disliked falling.  This dislike created the block against him using the earth element.  I can't answer that question, but you are very close and it does explain a lot.  The Almighty can't interfere because it is fate that it should happen this way.  According to Destiny, he would cause more damage if he got himself involved.  No, I didn't make a mistake about Wormtail.  We saw at the beginning when Raistlin informed Melania that Wormtail was back.  Pheta freed them because Voldemort needed his followers and it shows his rising power.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!  I hope you keep up with this story.

**Kalorna Enera:  **Dudley will see his old friends soon.  Jerry did say they had a habit of standing up for the little people.  I'm happy to know you like his new reformed self.  The only immortals said to be related are Melania's family so I'll give you a small little bit on how they are related.  Erebus is married to Nyx and we know two of their children:  Thanatos (older) and Melania.  They have other siblings, but they haven't been mentioned yet.  We also know that their aunt happens to be Destiny, Erebus' sister.  Pheta has family as well, but they did not go to the council meeting.  Yes, Lavinia is quite the cold person.  I'm happy you like his training.  If he does fall off a broom and starts to fly, I bet he would give quite a number of people a heart attack!  Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**Fantasyangel Writer:  **It's all right that you were too busy to read lately.  School is a horrible aspect of life.  It's already started for you?  My condolences.  I think we are all happy that Dudley is making the most out of his new chance at life.  Pheta is very cruel and as you can see here, she is a wonderful actress.  Now you see what Erebus meant when he said to Melania that Heaven would not take her side.  Lavinia is a lot like Snape to us readers I assume:  though they are both mean and cold, we like them.  Thanks for reviewing!

**Energeezer:  **Harry isn't going to go to Beauxbatons Academy in France to finish off his 'wizarding education'.  He's going to stay in Grey Tower to further advance his elemental powers and go to the high school there.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Kitta Baby:  **I don't think Night expected her to do that either!  It was a shock.  Lavinia Coulter's class is certainly a dangerous one, especially if you don't pay attention.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again!

**theauthorthatwrites:  **It's good to know that there aren't that many flaws in this, but criticism is appreciated, nevertheless.  Thanks for your encouragement and for reviewing!

**fire-bebe:  **I'm happy you like my story.  Harry's real strength is in the wind element, so they are starting out with it.  The clans aren't organized by element or level though, it's by how they use their element.  But the clans will be very interested in Harry and it will cause some conflict.  Romance won't feature in this fic, but we'll see where I go with this story.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Noctem:  **Thanks for the compliments!  Chocolate is truly a wonderful thing, though my mother thinks that I should stay far away from it.  Yes, they could use it to parry an attack, but Zylle wants him to learn how to dodge attacks first since he shows a lot of skill in flying and speed.  I didn't get a chance to read your story yet because of the blackout (it was on my screen, too), but I'll be sure to read/review it.  Thanks!

**Saruman the White:  **Thanks!

**Angelis1:  **He'll learn a few more.  Sarah and Hans will make sure that he will, if not for him then to satisfy their own boredom.  I'm happy you reviewed again!

**katrina:  **No, actually it isn't from Yu Yu Hakusho.  I made it up myself.  'Jin' is actually Japanese for 'wind'.  Thanks for reading!

**Zephyris:  **We'll see.  With Sarah and Hans involved, it's more than likely than he will.  Thanks for reading and reviewing again!

**chaser1:  **Thanks!  I'm glad to know you like the story!

**DaughterofDeath:  **Thanks for reading!

**Wolfmoon:  **We all are stuck doing things once in a while?  Did you have fun at the theme park?  Hope you get good books out of the library.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	16. Heaven Only Knows

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Sixteen:  Heaven Only Knows

Heaven only knows what lies before me

Heaven only knows what all my searching is for

All my life I've waited for a miracle

But I can't ask for anything more.

                                -"Heaven Only Knows" by Richard Marx

            He ducked as the masked Death Eater fired the Cruciatus Curse at him.  Rolling into a better position, he sent out a jet of red light from his wand and successfully stunned his opponent.  However, as soon as that dark wizard went down, another two arrived to attack him.  Stopping their assaults using a strong shield spell, he purposely reflected the hexes back at their casters.  Taking advantage of the situation, he performed the Full-Body Bind curse on them.

            All around him, the battle was winding down.  It was close, but the Order had beaten the Death Eaters in this battle.  He watched as the other Aurors apprehended the scumbags and carted them off.  They had been attacking a lot more lately around muggle towns.  Sometimes they were too late to save innocent people from their fate.  Sirius clearly remembered two articles in the Daily Prophet a few days ago…

**MUGGLE TOWN DECIMATED!**

The town of Hilton, located a sparse twenty miles from the city of Edinburgh, was discovered to be nothing more than a few smoldering remains and was completely devoid of life.  The Department of Magical Law Enforcement made this find early August 7th.

All of the town's 350 residents were found to be dead, counting women and children, with no survivors.  Many of the bodies when given an autopsy had traces of the Unforgivable curses on them.  Some high-ranked Aurors, including Zacharias Orville and Alastor Moody, believe this to be the work of Death Eaters.  Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, claims this allegation to be false and the work of terrorist wizards trying to launch the nation into chaos.  What could not be explained is the cause of death of one particular muggle.  The ministry prevented an Auror spokesperson from further commenting.  

_-Daily Prophet senior correspondent Ciara Corbin_

            Sirius planned to ask Orville what that was all about.  It intrigued him as to what was so extraordinary about the demise of this specific muggle that the Ministry wanted to keep it quiet.  If he couldn't get it out of Orville, then he'll just visit Ciara Corbin then.  He remembered her from school, but they were just friends.  The dark-haired girl with the amber eyes was a good friend despite the fact that she was a Slytherin through and through.  It did not surprise him that much when he found out that she was in the Daily Prophet, she always was writing a story and tended to know a lot about what was going on.  Unlike Rita Skeeter, Ciara was reasonably liked and gave a good view on a story.  She also didn't write a story unless she had all the details.  It was through her and another old school friend that the second article was put in the paper.  The focus of this story was his first priority these days.  

**Boy-Who-Lived Missing!**

_According to reliable sources, Harry James Potter has vanished from his relatives' home and cannot be found.  His disappearance was discovered when a wizard went to collect Potter on July 31st.  Later, it was revealed that Potter had in fact been missing since the night of July 28th.  In the testimonies by Potter's aunt and cousin (names withheld), Potter had transported himself out of his home via a whirlwind.  However, Ministry magic detectors did not pick up any magic signal that night, so this is viewed as skeptical.  More shocking is the revelations about the Boy-Who-Lived's home life.  _

_Potter's uncle had apparently abused the young wizard every time he was at the home.  Potter's cousin claims that at first it was only small things, "like a smack or two", but it fast accelerated into serious injuries when the family started to experience troubles.  Potter's aunt says that the last time she had seen the boy she had first glance thought him to be dead._

_Medical teams, Aurors, and average wizards alike are searching for the wizarding world's savior.  Sirius Black has offered one thousand galleons for his godson's safe return.  The Ministry of Magic is also offering 750 galleons as a reward for finding Harry Potter as well.  We can only hope that we find him soon._

_-Daily Prophet senior correspondent Maximillian Waring_

            The former Ravenclaw chaser latched onto the story as soon as Sirius had contacted him.  Max Waring will forever be a meticulous and admirable reporter.  He had interviewed Aurors, Harry's aunt and cousin, Severus Snape, and all others connected in this and wrote this brief article about it.  He was required to withhold some information, but Waring was a trustworthy person.  In the last war against Voldemort, Max Waring and Ciara Corbin were the eyes and ears in the media for the Order of the Phoenix and they themselves did some fighting.  They were looking into everything in search of Harry and planting subtle seeds of suspicion into the public's mind about the Ministry and Voldemort.  

            Yes, he did put up a reward for finding Harry.  He would pay anything just to have Harry back.  Harry was the only living legacy of his two deceased friends, James and Lily.  He was the reason he broke out of what could adequately be called hell on Earth to protect him.  Harry was all he had to live for since his life fell apart fourteen years ago.  Everything be damned if he was going to let anyone, whether they were some fat insane muggle or Voldemort himself, get their dirty hands on his beloved godson.

            "I see twelve years of Azkaban hasn't affected your dueling, Black."  Sirius started as a gruff voice addressed him from behind.  Immediately, he pivoted around and brought his wand up threateningly.  The middle-aged man with the iron-gray hair raised his hands up in a placating manner.  "Easy, tiger.  I'm not going to bloody curse you or something.  Though if you keep standing there staring into space, someone might just do that.  

            "Sorry," he apologized brusquely and lowered his wand.  "But once can never be too careful, Orville."

            Orville waved it off.  "Don't worry about it.  Want to go for a drink?  The Leaky Cauldron is not that far away."  He scrutinized the younger man with an intense look.  "Judging by the look of you, you need one."

            Sirius sighed and nodded the affirmative.  _What the hell, I don't have anything better to do at the moment._  Together, they walked down the hushed avenues in silence.  The yellow London streetlights created menacing shadows while also casting a creepy façade on their robed selves as well.  It was fortunate that no one walked the streets this late at night.  Both of them had been on the alert instantly when a mere cat knocked over a trash bin.  

            Tom looked up at the two when they walked in.  It was past midnight and the bar/restaurant/hotel did not get that many late night visitors.  He was not expecting late night visitors as infamous as these two especially.  Both looked exhausted and their robes were in some places tattered.  They did not need to say a word as they collapsed at a table.  Tom already knew what to bring these two:  two glasses and a chilled bottle of his best Ogden's firewhiskey.  His was tipped handsomely for his service and retreated back to the back, to finish the last of chores needed to be done.

            Orville then said to Sirius, "I'll tell you what you want to know first and then we'll talk about something else."  He looked the blue-eyes former convict fiercely with dark-brown orbs.  "No discussion," he pronounced firmly.

            Sirius cracked a small smile at the older man.  Zacharias Orville certainly had not changed over the years.  Orville taught the in-training Aurors in this time and taught everything he knew to him.  He was giving this prestigious position because he has so much experience fighting dark wizards.  Alastor Moody would have also qualified if he wanted to, but everyone knew that paranoid "Mad-Eye" Moody was not and never will be a people person.  Even now, Sirius could hear Orville barking orders for him to run twenty miles in the pouring rain or to do a hundred and fifty sit-ups in one minute.  He was a tough taskmaster who asked not to be liked but be served.  "Fine," he conceded.  "But that doesn't mean I'll answer your every question."

            "Fair enough.  I assume you want to hear about the Hilton incident, right?"  He took a long swig of his firewhiskey and pulled a mortified face.  "It was disgusting what was done there.  Especially that last body lying dead on the hill, that was just plane inhuman.  Out of my forty years as an Auror, I've never been so sickened in my life."

            _If Orville is this disturbed, then it must have been really bad._  "What happened?  Ciara Corbin said something about that body, but she said the Ministry prevented comments."

            "For once, I agree with them.  The people really don't need to know about **that**."  

            "Well?"  Sirius sipped his glass.

            "It was a muggle man, sliced perfectly in two."

            He successfully stopped himself from spitting the liquid in his mouth into Orville's face.  He managed to choke out a strangled, "What?"

            "It's exactly as I said, Black.  Cut in half."  He smiled at the shocked expression on Sirius' features.  "You should have seen the body.  It's much worse than it sounds.  You can even see the poor guy's horror, on both sides of his face.  I don't know what exactly happened to the guy, but I know that it was both gruesome and painful.  May that muggle rest in peace."  Orville raised his glass respectfully before taking a sip.  Sirius did the same.

            "It could not have been a Death Eater.  Death Eaters would never do that.  I doubt that they would even if they could do it."

            "That's exactly what I said.  The Ministry is now all scared.  And because they are all scared, what do they do?"

            "Let me guess this one," he interrupted.  Even in the old war, Orville never had that much faith in the Ministry.  The sole reason Orville joined was to take revenge on the Death Eater that killed his oldest sister and to protect the remaining members of his family.  When he saw how much they held back from the people, Orville never trusted Ministry decisions again.  One could call him an anarchist, but others just say he's extremely democratic.  "They didn't say a word, to both the people and to the people working on the lower levels of the administration."

            "Exactly.  And they call this a fair and balanced government," Orville scoffed.  "There are a few worse ones, but there are a few good ones.  I've been around the world once or twice before.  The Americans do a pretty good job and so do the Canadians.  Australia's is a wonderful one.  We just have to be stuck with one of the bad ones."

            "Pity."

            "If we had a stable government system to begin with, this threat probably would not have been so bad.  But there's one more thing about the body that might interest you."

            "No more," Sirius pleaded.  "I really don't want to think about it."  _If something that bad happened just to some muggle, then what about Harry?  Calm down, Padfoot, and breathe.  You won't let that happen to Harry.  He may be fatally injured by some fat muggle piece of crap, but he won't get cut in half by a…something.  Damn my imagination!_

            "Oh, but this is really interesting," Orville said cryptically.  "It has to do with this girl training to be an Auror like us."

            "I thought you retired from training in-coming Aurors."

            "I did, but she just began following me everywhere.  Her name is Stella Prewett.  She is a persistent lass.  She would probably to well, but she blindly trusts the Ministry."

            "Despite her views, what was so interesting?"

            "It was what she did when she saw the body."

            "I can imagine how she reacted.  Screaming and crying?"

            "Partly so."

            "Partly?  How can you be only partly 'screaming and crying' when faced with a mauled body like that?!"

            "Well, I don't know any other way of describing it.  At first, she started screaming and not horrified 'oh my god' shrieks.  She was screaming as if she just saw the devil.  Next, when she quieted down, she started glancing around muttering.  She got really jumpy, frightened when someone just said only one word.  Then, she apparated away.  Before she left, she claimed that she needed to talk to her uncle urgently."

            Sirius raised an eyebrow.  "That seems…odd.  Who is her uncle?"

            "That's the understatement of the year, Black.  Her uncle's some big jeweler named Derek Montague-Hillary.  He's a widower, married her aunt years ago before the war.  You remember Ophelia?  He's her husband.  I think he's a muggle."

            "What would a muggle know about this sort of thing?"

            "I have no idea.  Also intriguing:  I distinctly heard her say 'demon' in her mutterings.  Strange, huh?"  He poured himself another glass.  "Now it's your turn."  Sirius remained silent.  "You know what I want to talk about:  Harry Potter."

            "No, Orville."  

            "That's wrong, Black.  It's 'yes, Orville'.  Now talk.  You probably need this off your chest anyway.  I know you too well and knowing you, you're wallowing in a guilt-trip."

            "Nothing," Sirius abruptly broke in.

            "What?"  Orville looked surprised that Sirius gave in so quickly.

            Sirius put his head on the polished wooden table in defeat and with one hand pounded the table angrily.  This attracted the only other person awake in the establishment:  Tom.  At the sound of the harsh noise, he stuck his head out of the back room.  He gave Sirius a reproving glare, but Sirius paid no mind to it.  

            "Calm down," Orville said.  "Tell me what you mean by that."

            "It's impossible, but true.  There's no trace of him anywhere!  Not a single magic trace or physical clue.  It's as if he just vanished!"

            "Did you check for outside interference?"

            "Yes," he sighed.  "It was the first thing I looked for once I confirmed that there was truly no sign that he was there.  His room was completely clean of magic."

            "I would think a whirlwind would leave something behind."

            "It didn't.  I looked everywhere and there was nothing!"  He slumped in his seat even more.  "I just don't know what to do anymore."

            "I'll tell you what you're going to do."  Sirius lifted his head and opened his mouth to say something scathing, but Orville beat him to it.  "No, you're going to listen and do what I tell you.  Are you listening?!"

            He rolled his eyes and said, "Yes."

            "You are going to find that boy, no matter what.  He needs you and you need him.  For his sake, your sake, and in the memory of his parents, you will find him and help him.  You are going to give that boy the protection and proper home that he was denied!  Understand!  Well?!"  Orville's voice rose in volume and passion the more he spoke. 

            Sirius grinned, "Understood.  Thanks, Orville."

            "Someone needs to keep you on track.  Heaven knows that you get off it way too much for your own good."

            "And heaven only knows what lies before me.  And where what I'm searching for is."

            Ron glared at the waffles on his plate with a mixture of anger and sadness.  He had left them uneaten on his plate for the greater part of an hour and they were rock-hard, yet he still picked at it with a fork.  He sat alone at the table while his mother was at the sink cleaning up.  _Harry's supposed to be here, eating with us.  Not missing and hurt, but with us.  _

            "Ron, stop picking at your food and eat."  His mother kept prodding them to eat, no matter how many times he had told her that he wasn't hungry.  He saw what she desperately tried to hide.  Her eyes, red from tears, showed that she had cried.  Also, he had heard his father try to calm her down with shaky but optimistic words.  Harry's disappearance hit her hard since she considered him as one of her own children.  _He's part of our family, yet we couldn't help him._  Hermione was adamant that Harry would return soon.  She sat at the window all the time now these days:  reading and looking up to stare outside every now and then.  Ginny had not yet ventured out of her room.  Usually, he would go to his sister if he had a problem that he didn't feel like discussing with Harry or Hermione.  He felt though, after hearing soft sobbing from inside her room, going to her would be extremely selfish of him.

            "I'm not hungry, Mum."

            Mrs. Weasley sighed.  "I know, Ron.  But please TRY to eat."

            "Where are all of the others?"

            "Charlie went back to Romania to help get the support of foreign wizards.  We will need all the help we can get against Voldemort.  Fred and George are looking for something in Diagon Alley, but I don't know what."  Ron knew what they were looking for.  Somehow, the twins had gotten a hold of quite a large sum of money.  They were looking for space in Diagon Alley to rent or buy so they could start their joke shop.  "Bill was called back to Gringotts and then was shipped off to Egypt.  Apparently, they found something big and want Bill to get it.  Your father is at work and…you know about Percy." 

            Ron ignored his mother's acknowledgement of Percy.  "Bill got called back to Egypt?  I thought he applied for a desk job so he could work with the Order."

            "He did, but it's about some new tomb that they found.  They noticed a strange cat appearing and disappearing in the area and for some reason, the tomb-breakers followed it.  The cat went straight into the tomb, but the tomb-breakers couldn't go after it.  There were a lot of security wards around it, very strong ones.  It's an honor for your brother, this could be big."

            Ron nodded numbly.  "Good for him."

            A brown owl flew into the kitchen through the window and soared out just as quickly, dropping a letter in Ron's lap.  He stared out the window, wide-eyed.  "Mum?  Was that Hermes?"

            "I think it was," she answered weakly. 

            Ron opened the letter.  The neat and even handwriting was definitely Percy's.  He read aloud:

**_Dear Ron,_**

_            How are you?  I hope you are doing well.  As for myself, I am doing fine.  I have a place of my own now and Penelope might be moving in as well.  I'm currently Minister Fudge's aide and not only is this a great promotion, but it is a great honor.  He had heard of my work for Mr. Bartemius Crouch last year and wanted me on his team.  _

_            I'm very happy about this and also relieved.  Many times I had thought that Dad's views and opinions would hold me back in the Ministry.  Yes, I am still angry with mother and father.  They trust the word of an old coot over the fine and upstanding Ministry of Magic!  How absurd of them! _ 

            He kept on reading, even though he could feel his mother's palpable anger.  Ron himself was getting hot around the neck at Percy's self-centered personality.

            _Congratulations on becoming a Gryffindor prefect!  Take advantage of this because prefect is the first step to becoming Head Boy.  I must say that for a moment I had thought you were going to follow in the "admirable" footsteps of Fred and George, but it was a pleasant surprise that you are following in mine.  It's good to see that you are finally seeing some sense.  _

_            I guess you already heard about the whole Harry Potter thing.  One must wonder if it is true though.  Potter does have a tendency to exaggerate things, so I doubt this so called 'abuse' was really all that bad.  As for him missing, I bet he left on his own over something childish and won't return just to get some attention.  You should take advantage of this.  Sever all your ties with Potter; he will only hold you back.  True, he may be Dumbledore's favorite, but the people who really do count in the world do not think too highly of him.  _

_            You will only doom yourself and your future by being friends with such a controversial person as Potter.  Potter's behavior is known to be violent and aggressive at times so if you have any trouble doing so when they finally 'find' him, I suggest you have a talk with Dolores Umbridge.  She is a rather delightful woman who will be taking the Defense Against the Dark Arts post this year.  I'm sure that she _will help you.  

_            I hope you will take my advice.  Think about what I have said, especially about Harry Potter.  It's dangerous knowing that boy.  Also, don't let family ties hold you back.  Once again, congratulations on becoming a prefect._

_Your brother,_

_Percy_

            Ron finished the letter with his voice shaking with rage.  He folded the letter up and focused on his mother's shocked face.  _No doubt that she's upset about him and what he said.  Particularly about Harry.  _"I think I'm going to take Percy's advice, Mum.  I'm not going to let my family ties hold me back." Vehemently, Ron shredded the paper into bits.  "As of now, I have no relation or any connection at all to the person known as Percival Weasley."

            His mother smiled at him and enveloped him in a hug.  "For a second you scared me, Ronald Weasley.  But I'm proud of you."

            "Thanks, Mum.  By the way, can I have a Howler?"

            She fixed him with a questioning look.  "Why on Earth would you want a Howler?"

            "I want to send a reply back to Percy.  It would be rude not to give him a last letter."

            "Hmm," Mrs. Weasley nodded.  "Perhaps we both should send him a last reply.  In the middle of the day, when he's at his office."

            He smiled back at her evilly.  "And you wonder where Fred and George got it."  He then ran as his mother advanced threateningly upon him in mock anger with a wooden spoon.

            _We'll find you, Harry.  Don't worry.  You're part of my family, more a part of this family than Percy ever was.  And when you're a part of the Weasley family, you're never alone.  Wait for us, we're coming Harry.  Heaven only knows when we'll find you, but rest assured, we will._

***

Thanks to everyone who has read and please review!  I actually wrote this chapter twice.  The first one though was awful!  A piece of garbage!  I didn't want to ruin my story with that trash.  So this is the much more improved chapter sixteen.  Quality is better than timing, I guess.

Hope you like that little musical segment up there.  It's the chorus from Richard Marx's "Heaven Only Knows".  It's a wonderful, but sad song.  He's a wonderful singer.  Yes, I love music from the '80s.  But that was certainly an era of fantastic music.  Should I keep adding musical segments?  We'll see, I guess.

As we can see, the Death Eaters are getting more aggressive in their attacks.  Sirius has both to deal with these threats and look for Harry.  We will see a lot of Ciara Corbin and Max Waring's work in this.  Not to mention a lot more of Zacharias Orville.  Sirius is sort of down about it since it seems that there was no trace of magic at all at number 4 Privet Drive.  The reason:  he was looking for wizarding magic.  Harry left through elemental magic, which wizards of course know nothing about.  Stella Prewett's reaction was odd, wasn't it?  Yet, she seems to know what happened to that poor muggle.  Why she does lies all in the identity of her uncle, one Derek Montague-Hillary.  

Ron has it tough, doesn't he?  No one to confide in at all.  And Percy just is horrible, huh?  I had Percy's letter in Order of the Phoenix in front of me and I took his style.  Then, I put what Percy would say if this actually happened.  But Ron did follow his advice:  he severed ties with family that would hold him back.  We can imagine Percy's face when he gets two Howlers the next day.  Bill did get a desk job at Gringotts in Order of the Phoenix, but here he is heading back for one more adventure.  The cat is very important.  

Next chapter will feature Harry, Sarah, going out into Grey Tower Town, and a new friend.  Also a witch will spot Harry.  After that, we will get some Voldemort and maybe Bill's adventure.  Hopefully, it will be up soon and I won't have to rewrite the chapter again.  God, that first attempt was horrible…

Out of curiosity, which god or goddess do you, the readers, like the best?  I'm just interested to know.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers (sorry that it was late!):_

AlL rOaDs LeAd To HeLl:  I just hate when Fanfiction.Net does that.  It was there, but for some reason they didn't show it.  Why must they do that to us?!  Thanks for looking anyway.

Quatre Winner:  No, you're not that obsessed.  I admit that I am also an avid Yu-Gi-Oh! fan.  We have a glimpse of what the Order is doing here.  We will get back to Dudley soon, don't worry about that.  He's become quite the favorite among my reviewers.  Thanks!

fullsailnate:  I'm glad you like the switching of views.  I did get some comments before that it was confusing.  The deity council was fun to write.  Can you imagine:  everything is all quiet and formal and then out of nowhere, Thanatos starts talking loudly in his sleep about strippers.  Voldemort has come back stronger, but he can't use those powers in front of his followers yet.  He's still just Pheta's lackey.  Thanks for reading!

Fate:  Yes, Raistlin Majere from the Dragonlance series is in this.  I'm glad you like my story and I hope you continue reading.

Renee Fay:  The blackout was annoying.  Not many of the channels I watch were greatly affected though (thank goodness).  What a way to make an exit:  with snow.  Lavinia and Snape really should meet, but I pity the poor students afterward if they do.  The chapter was meant to be slightly creepy, especially the part about Voldemort.  You do have to feel sorry for the dark gods.  But not all the light gods are airheads like those at the council were, they just didn't show up.  And not all the dark gods are like Melania…

WolfMoon:  You like roller coasters?  I'm scared stiff of them.  It's mainly a combination of heights and the fact that I think my glasses are going to go flying.  My older brother adores them, but he's the athletic one so he can't complain.  I hope the books you took out were good.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

chaser1:  Thanks for reviewing!

Arashi Kaminari:  Interesting choice for a name!  I feel bad for you guys in Canada, we didn't have it as bad as you guys did.  And we're partly to blame too.  On behalf of Americans and New Yorkers, sorry.  Thanks for the encouragement to write!  

hermionegreen:  Thanks for the compliments.  Yes, Harry will get his memory back, but it will be very far off.  I appreciate you reading this.

gaul1:  Yep, Bill is involved with the Staff of Kardis.  And Voldemort will try to go after it on Pheta's orders.  But he gets all his information from Pheta, so Destiny can't really intervene there.  But who knows?  She might make it fate that Voldemort is informed.  You'll see that Destiny is quite the fickle person when we meet the goddess later.  As for the children of the immortals, they can reincarnate because they are mortal.  Most of the time, they do finish their duty in life though, so descendants of immortals rarely reincarnate at all really.  

GrimmyD:  Thanks for reading!

crystal, lily, james, and sirius:  You guys are so interesting!  I hope you don't fight over the computer though, a person can get hurt.  An example being with my brother and me.  In the end, we were really badly bruised by the one thing that is always in front of the computer anyway:  the chair.  It's easier now that I have my own computer now.  I'm glad you guys liked the previous chapter and hopefully this one won't disappoint!

katrina:  Oh…sorry about that then.  The demon Jin that Yusuke had to fight in the Dark Tournament was an inspiration for some wind powers though.  

Zaz:  Good to know that it was great!  Thanks for reading and reviewing.  

Dara Maeko:  I tried to fit a Harry segment in, but it just wouldn't work out.  But the next chapter is an exclusive Harry chapter.  I'm happy to know the plot isn't boring anyone.  Being hyper is fun, but when you can't be hyper anymore, that bites.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Prd2bAmerican18:  I'm happy to hear that you want more.  Someone will spot Harry next chapter, so we'll see how that goes!  Thanks!

Porphyrophobic Grape:  I think we all feel bad for that poor guy that Voldemort killed.  What a way to go.  We get a lot of Harry-ness next chapter, though!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Artemis MoonClaw:  I do live near New York City, but the blackouts were everywhere.  I think it had to do with some lines in Ohio, but no one really knows what happened.  I hope you liked this chapter!

Caroline Hal:  Thanks!  Stella Prewett (the girl in-training Auror talking to Orville) thought that Albus was the one doing it because she firmly believed in the Ministry.  She was just grasping at straws there though.  She didn't think he really did it, but she did not want to go against the Ministry so she did what Fudge did and blamed Dumbledore.  She really doesn't believe it though.  

Headmaster Cromwell:  Thanks for inviting me to join up at Salem!  I sent in an application already and I hope I get in.  Thanks so much!

Arsenal:  Thanks for your concern and for reading! 

Rachel A. Prongs:  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Saruman the White:  I'm happy you loved it!

Kitta Baby:  Ouch…sorry about the Internet connection.  I'm happy you liked the chapter.  It is an interesting piece of irony, huh?  The goddess of light happens to be evil.  It appealed to me when I thought about it.  I love irony.  

angelic-devil11:  Thanks for reading!

Dying Angel1:  Thanks for your compliments and I'm sorry that it was late. 

DaughterofDeath:  Sorry, that this was late, but I hope you like it.

Zephyris:  Sorry, but though I've heard of the game, Secret of Mana, it isn't from there.  Thanatos is the actual name of the Greek god of death, but he was never really shown much in myths.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Wytil:  You do have a point, I really can't complain.  It is interesting that you called me a yankee.  I've never been called that before.  Moving on, though.  But considering what you've been through, it is an excuse.  I hope you and the rest of the people in Memphis are alright and I hope you like the chapter.

knot2be:  We get to see Harry/Night next chapter.  Thanks for reading!

TrowGundam:  Thanks for your compliments.  I probably should start up a mailing list, it would help a lot of people.  Thanks of the idea!

FantasyAngelWriter:  Remember how you said in your review about how the dark gods/goddesses aren't necessarily bad or evil even if they are called 'dark'?  The same applies to the light gods/goddesses.  Just because they are connected to the light doesn't mean that they are totally good and pure, they just are connected to the light.  I agree that it was wonderful to see the stars like that.  I live in a suburb so I get so see them more than the people in the city, but the view that night was amazing!  I was very happy.  Sorry I updated so late!

Vicious Lily:  I'm happy to know you love my plot, since that really makes a story go.  Those gods are very important, but there are other significant gods as well.  They just didn't show up since they saw no point.  As those actually present, well they just follow Pheta around.  The Dudley scenes are making you cry?!  Hopefully not in a bad way, I hope.  Thanks for reading and reviewing, Vicious!  I love your pen name. 

Jordan:  Sorry, I updated so late, but here it is!

SiRiUsLy ObSeSsEd1:  I'm happy that you like my story!  As for the cause of Harry's memory loss, it was partly both natural and magical.  He did suffer a lot of head trauma so that covers that natural part.  As for the magical part, Harry's mind/soul was in the dark realm of Lethe while in his body was in a coma.  Since Lethe is a place of forgetfulness, he forgot something.  He was there for a total of three days so he forgot a lot, as you can see.  Melania, however, is partly making sure that he doesn't get his memory back yet.  She wants him to have an open mind so he could train, shield him from Pheta, and protect him from the horrible experiences that he had gone through.  We'll get to see how Dudley and his friends deal with the demons soon, he's not going anywhere!  I'm happy you like his improved self.  As for Hogwarts, we'll see.  But I can assure you that Professor Coulter's class is bound to be interesting!  Sarah or Gran is cool.  I wish my grandmother was like that.  But, my grandmother lives in another country so I don't see her too much.  I'm happy you like the training scenes.  A fellow New Yorker!  A half an hour, you people did have it lucky.  I guess I can't blame you though since you got stuck in traffic at Watertown.  I can't complain either, I live in the suburbs.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Blank_Eyes:  Yes, he does have a lot of power in all the elements, but he is the most powerful in the wind element.  So, they are starting with that one.  Yes, the Almighty is all-powerful and he could control them if he wanted to.  But he likes the dark gods for not being in awe of his power and just following him out of respect.  He doesn't want to lose this respect so he doesn't try to control them.  As for Destiny, she has the whole thing planned out before her.  She told him that if he interfered then the outcome would come out differently.  They decided that the best outcome for the mortals would be if the Almighty did not interfere.  You could say that Destiny is the advisor.  The Almighty made the decision not to intervene on his own.  Yes, his reasons are not for those below him to understand, but he does try to make it a bit easier on them.  He does have a sense of humor, though.  As for the Universe, the Almighty created it and they could be considered equals in a way.  It is both a being and object.  However, the Universe created the dark gods and goddesses to balance out the ones with the powers of light.  Then it just stayed out of things.  The Universe doesn't have as much power as the Almighty though, but it is more powerful than the rest of the gods and goddesses.  I appreciate the constructive criticism, so it isn't a bother really.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	17. The Scarlet Raven

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Seventeen:  The Scarlet Raven

_            She's bouncing,_ he thought disbelievingly to himself.  _There's no other word for it:  my grandmother is bouncing._  Bouncing was truly the only way to describe how Sarah was walking down the street, Nuitari in tow.  He guessed that they deserved all the staring:  they made quite a pair.  He was a stranger to a town where practically everyone knew each other while, Gran was, and well she was Gran.  He asked her, "Where are we going?"

            Still bouncing, she cheerily replied, "Sky Lane, one of the five major business streets in Grey Tower Town.  It's on one of our clans boundaries, so other clans can come and do business there, too."

            There weren't that many people out this sunny morning on August 9th, but even he had to admit that his grandmother's bright lime green dress shirt was a **bit** noticeable.  Combine that with turquoise slacks and a dandelion yellow kerchief tying back her black-streaked gray hair and…to put it mildly you had to rub your eyes a little and not look at her directly.  He himself just pulled on an emerald green t-shirt and black jeans.  He chose to wear his contact lenses instead of his glasses.  There was nothing too out of place about him unless you counted the fact that he was a stranger.

            _There's also my scar.  I wonder how I got it?  It's certainly not normal.  _He had pondered over this mark for quite a while.  After all a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his hardly counted as normal.  When he asked his new family about it, Hans immediately proclaimed it the result of a dark curse.  Hans, who Nuitari viewed as a kindly but quirky grandfather (the title of 'uncle' sounded horrible and insulting.  It certainly didn't befit the elderly man.), steadfastly wouldn't say how he knew this.  Gran seemed to know though and she hastily changed the subject.  He decided not to push it.  At the moment, the scar was hidden under his bangs.  He didn't want people noticing it and gawking, for whatever reason.  _Maybe I can ask Tom somehow.  He would probably know.  _

            "You didn't say why we are going to Sky Lane."

            "Grocery store.  We need some food in the house, child!  I have four mouths to feed."

            "You said before that Hans owned it?"

            "Yep.  The Food, Food, and More Food is the only grocery store around here.  We don't shop at those supermarkets because their food isn't as good as ours.  The vegetables and fruit are on the first floor, while the meat and dairy products are on the cold second floor."

            "But if Hans runs the store, why is he never there?"

            Gran laughed merrily.  "He gets bored!  He lets his son, Franz, handles most of it now.  And here we are.  Welcome to Sky Lane, Night."

            Sky Lane was a clean and wide street, straight with nooks or crannies.  It was very busy, people bustling to and fro, stopping sometimes to chat with each other shortly before going on their way.  The buildings were on only one side of the street; the other side was a wrought iron fence.  He recognized it as the park Zylle and Mirabelle had told him about.  It was Aiken-Quincy Park, owned and cared for by the Arlen family of the Eikou-Taiyou.  

            Walking down the street beside Gran, he was struck by how the street was both so ordinary, yet so connected to the magical community.  The pottery and art store did not to be disguised that much:  it only needed a few kilns that the artists never used.  A clothing store here sold not only muggle clothing, but also fighting outfits and even wizard robes.  The divination store did not need to be hid:  the muggle world had plenty of these already.  Those weren't real, but the fact remained that nothing need be done to it.  In front of the potions apothecary (which was very cleverly disguised as a store called "Herbs and Spices"), a boy a few years older than he was by probably five years was making an impressive show for some younger kids.  He was juggling six flaming sticks while doing what seemed to be a complicated and elaborate tap dance.  With a flash of fire that caused excited 'oohs' from the audience around him, he had two pairs of daggers in each hand.  Nonplussed, he added them to his act.  He did this all while he was dancing, not stopping even once.  

            "That Pierce Rowan is such a showoff," Gran scoffed.  "Granted he does put on a great performance…" Nuitari smirked when he heard her mutter this.  He was impressed with this little routine as well and couldn't wait until he learned how to summon a weapon out of his element.  Zylle had demonstrated to him weapon summon just yesterday. 

            Just yesterday Gran said that they had the basics of metamorphosis down, so they could move on.  She was starting to show him how to control fire, her element.  So far, he could summon flames using his hands or make things explode by thinking about it.  It was a good start.  Gran said that she would teach him her own combat technique:  the Inferno's Hellfire.  She did however warn him:  it caused a lot of damage when used, but at the same time required a lot of energy.  He would not be taught it until he could handle the fire element with as much ease as the wind element.  Nuitari had some trouble with it, but not a lot.  It was getting easier.

            He had finally mastered tapping into his elements without major concentration.  Zylle was apparently right:  with a lot of practice, he could use his element instantly, without thought.  Wind was the easiest, which Zylle said was logical.  He was strongest in that element, so of course it wasn't hard for him.  His lesson in weapon summoning was by far the most interesting he had so far.

            Zylle had taken him down to the basement, where Nuitari had to do at least two hours of training a day.  The accomplishment in utilizing the wind element showed when he noticed that he now moved a lot faster than a normal person could, with a lot more grace.  Not that he was a ballerina or anything.  God forbid that.  But he could felt that his strides were becoming more like the smooth gait that Zylle possessed.  Nuitari now had taken an interest in running to increase his speed, but he hadn't asked Zylle about it yet.  As soon as they reached the center of the room, which soon becoming routine, she told him that they were going to learn combat.  According to Zylle, this was a skill he **had** to know.  "Elementals follow a strict tradition of learning the fighting arts," she said.  "Besides, you never know when you'll need the skill."

            "What about the people that wouldn't want to fight?  Also what about the kids that are wizards?  And I thought I was going to learn how to use my other elements."

            "Questions, questions!  Every elemental knows how to fight.  Even the ones that don't look like they would, they do.  As for the children who are wizards and witches, we teach them as well, but with regular weapons.  You are going to learn how to use the other elements from Mum.  The tournament's approaching fast and in case anyone is going to try anything funny, I want you to be prepared.  Take that heavy long sword from the wall."  He obliged her.  "Now swing it at me."

            "I really don't get your training methods."

            She smiled cheekily.  "But they work, you can't deny that.  Now swing!  Use everything you have!"

            Nuitari swung sideways with all the strength he could muster.  Zylle quickly brought up her hand.  With a slight breeze and flash of lightning, held a sword in her once empty hand.  She just held the blade up in the path of the swing.  Before his eyes, his sword was cut in half like butter.  The metal clattered noisily on the wooden floor.  He couldn't help but just stare in shock at the silver just lying on the ground.  She gave him the sword so he could take a better look at it.

            It wasn't made of metal.  It was different and he knew this instinctively.  The blade had the form of silver, with some tints of midnight blue and dark purple faintly swirling in it.  The hilt was also made of a similar material, but colored a dull storm gray.  It was fairly light despite its metal appearance.  "What **is** this?"

            "An elemental sword.  In this case, a wind elemental sword."

            "This sword is made out of wind?"

            "As unbelievable as it sounds, it's true.  Remember when I said that those swords don't hold a candle to the ones elementals use?  This is one of them."

            Nuitari thought about what she said.  "So, this sword is wind made in a tangible form?  And you can do this with other elements?"

            "Exactly.  As you can see, it's relatively lightweight."  Zylle took back the sword and twirled it around like a baton.  "Perfect for us and our speedy moves, while sharper than anything.  You'll see that the other elements have heavier weapons.  Take Hans for instance.  Word of advice, try to avoid getting hit with that broad axe."

            "Cool," he enthused.  "How do I do it?"

            "Oh, you won't be doing it just yet, kiddo."

            "What?  But you just showed me!"

            "I know I did."  She made her sword disappear.  "But do you know anything about swordsmanship?"

            "Not a thing."

            "Then you can't summon your weapon.  It's not like the element is just going to let you swing a sharp object needlessly.  You have to learn."

            Nuitari tried to make himself look irresistibly cute and innocent so she would give in.  "Please?  Teach me?"  He blinked languid green eyes behind silver framed glasses for effect.

            "Nice try.  Grab the sword with the gold handle."  Zylle herself took a slightly heavier sword with an iron hilt.  "Now we begin."

            "It's at these times I think you want to hurt me."

            "Trust me, Mum used to be worse."  He brought up his sword to parry her vertical slice.  "Elementals have an instinct to fight.  We know how to fight from the moment we are born, but we need training to use this instinct and perfect it," she said as she added pressure to her assault, forcing Nuitari to use more strength to hold up against it.  Out of nowhere and quite suddenly, he just knew what to do.  He stepped quickly to the side and then disconnected his sword from hers.  Zylle smiled as he brought himself into a defensive stance.  She then laughed as she saw evident confusion written across his face.  "Don't worry, you'll get it soon."

            Now he was planning to train harder than ever.  He had gotten better when he did some exercises this morning, but he wished he could improve faster.  During the past few days while Zylle was gone, he wrote essays (more like short stories, Gran didn't want him bored out of his mind) and math problems.  Apparently, Grey Tower High not only went into the magical arts, but also into muggle subjects.  He had a lot to catch up on.  _I swear that if I ever somehow meet the person who made up algebra, I'll kill them!  _He didn't notice the small girl in the front of the crowd sneeze suddenly right after this thought passed his mind.  He was startled out of his reverie by Gran pulling on his arm.  "Come on!  We can't watch Pierce Rowan all day.  To the Food, Food, and More Food!"

            They walked a little farther down the avenue where they found themselves in front of a well-kept brick building that was about two-stories high.  The large glass window had a sign proclaiming in huge blue-stenciled letters '**Food, Food, and More Food**'.  A bell jingled as they entered the store.

            It was larger than it looked from the outside.  Stands of fresh victuals stood against the walls and other goods were stocked neatly on shelves in the middle.  Two cashiers to the side were ringing up purchases for customers.  One of them was a man with fair blond hair and dark green eyes.  Nuitari was distinctly reminded of Hans.  _That must be Franz Claybourne, Hans' son.  _He grabbed a shopper's basket from the pile by the door.

            Gran was already loading down his basket and giving helpful advice.  She was quite the leader.  For example, she told him not to touch the pomegranates.

            "Why not?"

            She shrugged.  "No idea.  It's just a thing we have around here.  Actually, I think they're quite good, but it's a tradition for newcomers not to eat them."

            "Let me guess this one," Nuitari said slyly.  "Hans had something to do with it."

            "Yep.  Hey.  Is that who I think it is?  It is!  Derek!"

            Nuitari turned to look at whom his grandmother was frantically waving at.  It was a man of medium height who was almost completely bald.  He looked like a fit man who had just gone slightly to seed.  He was talking to another person beside the cheery stand:  a woman with light brown hair and eyes in blue witches' robes with an anxious look on her face.  The man (_Derek?_) smiled when he saw them.  Motioning to the young woman, they walked towards them.  "Hey, Sarah," he said jovially.  "How is it going?"

            "Long time, no see.  I'm doing well.  Oh!"  She turned to the interested Nuitari.  "Night, this is an old friend of mine, Derek Montague-Hillary.  He's an earth elemental.  Derek, this is my grandson, Nuitari.  We call him Night for short.  He's a wind elemental."

            "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," he said politely.

            "It's all mine," responded Derek.  They shook hands.  "And this is my niece, Stella.  You were adopted, right?"

            "Right."

            Derek laughed.  "You really can't tell, can you?!  Messy black hair and gray eyes, you look like a regular Hawking!  You could pass for Zylle's son literally!  And you're even a wind elemental, as well!  Talk about coincidence!"

            Stella scrutinized him.  "He looks like someone I've seen before…I just can't place the face."

            Gran looked at Stella questioningly.  "You're a witch, right?  What are you doing here?  We don't get involved with wizarding affairs and it looks too serious to be just a simple visit."

            "There's something up around England.  People are saying the Dark Lord is back."

            _Dark Lord?  Who's that?_  Derek next said scathingly, "Typical wizards.  Also their so-called 'savior' is missing.  And they can't even say that dark wizard's name!"  _This sounds very familiar…_

            "It looked like a demon was involved with the attack in Hilton, though," Stella continued, but not without a mock angry glare at her uncle.  "There was a body of a man there, sliced in two if you can believe it."

            "Sounds like a demon," Gran admitted.

            Derek added, "I know.  And when demons are involved, there's always trouble."  _Note to self:  when I get home, go look up demons in the library._

            Nuitari exhaled his breath loudly.  He had just been introduced to about thirty-five people who seemed to want to know every single detail about him.  A couple of times, people actually thought he was literally Zylle's son and asked where he had been all this time.  He also disliked the fact that everyone seemed to be watching his every move, like he was some celebrity.  _I don't like it.  Why can't they just treat me normally?_  Right now, he was sitting under a huge beech tree a bit off the main path in Aiken-Quincy Park.  Gran let him have a break from the almost continuous interrogations he had just been put through.  It felt good not to have eyes on him.  

            "Who are you?"  The question was almost accusatory.  Standing above him and a little to the left, stood a boy around his age staring down at him.  He had dark red hair that was combed forward, slightly messy.  _It's nowhere near to this bird's nest on top of my head, though. _ His face was more or less expressionless, but his dark blue eyes glinted brightly with suspicion.  Nuitari blinked.  He didn't even notice when this stranger came up to him.  "Well?"

            "Oh!  Sorry about that," he apologized.  "I was just wondering how you snuck up on me."  

            The boy tersely replied, "It's a gift.  You didn't answer my question."  The redhead leaned against the tree and put his hands in his khakis' pockets.  

            "Nuitari Hawking, wind elemental of the Arashi-Tenku."  He had gone over some of the formalities that elementals used.  One of them was the fact that they had to include their element and clan in with their name when introduced.  Both he and Zylle decided it would be a lot simpler if they said he was just a wind elemental.

            "Hawking?  I guess you're all right then.  Odd name," was what the boy responded with.  The suspicion faded away from his eyes though at the mention of the name 'Hawking'.  It was soon replaced by curiosity and a bit of wariness.  "Mirabelle?"

            "Yep.  Just call me 'Night'.  It's easier."

            "It is easier.  There are people with worse nicknames though."  The redhead extended his hand.  "I'm Bran Ravencroft, fire elemental of the Arashi-Tenku."  They shook hands.

            "Bran?  And you say my name is odd," said Nuitari jokingly.

            Bran grinned.  "The name 'Bran' is just a shortened form of my middle name, 'Brandon'.  My real name is Richard, but I usually don't answer to that."

            "Why not?"

            "It was all because of a horrible nickname that my cousin Gino came up with.  I hate him," Bran said with a scowl.

            "You have a big family?"

            "Yeah," he said.  "Most of them live in Italy, near my grandparents.  'Big' is an understatement.  Counting my dad, my grandparents had fifteen kids.  Also, all of them had at least nine or ten children of their own.  My dad's considered to have the least amount with, including myself, only four.  Family reunions are terrible."

            "I only have Zylle, Gran, and I guess Hans.  They're enough for me.  Oh, I think I saw two of your siblings.  Phyllis and Caroline?"

            "You saw them?"

            "Right when I came here with Zylle.  They were playing in the street."

            Bran sat down next to him against the tree.  "Oh, so you're really the one everyone's talking about, then?"

            "What?"

            "There was this rumor around town that Zylle Hawking adopted some kid who appeared out of nowhere and has a lot of power.  I guess you are since you took on her surname."

            "Oh."  Nuitari paused.  "That does describe my situation rather well, I guess.  They were talking about me?"

            "You're big news.  Zylle is pretty famous in the elemental communities since she's so powerful and influential.  Let's not forget your mysterious circumstances.  Some of the other clan leaders are really upset about it.  They said that they should have been informed so they could decide where you should go in 'a fair manner'."

            "What's the big deal?  I probably would have gone with Zylle anyway.  It does explain why everyone was staring at me, though."  Abruptly, Nuitari became sarcastic.  "Wonderful!  I'm a celebrity!  And they might remove me from Zylle's care, too!"

            Bran laughed again.  "Well, you're certainly different.  Other people would be reveling in the fact that _the_ Zylle Samara Hawking is training them.  I doubt the other leaders would remove you though.  It's mostly Crowley of the Rekka-Ki doing all this complaining.  Besides, mostly everyone doesn't want to get on Zylle's bad side so they'll leave you be."

            "I don't want the attention.  Who would want all those people knowing all about you?"

            "I can relate.  I'm the 'freakish-weirdo'.  Simeon Bradley annoys me every single day because I just happen to get good grades.  Now there's someone who needs to be removed.  From the community, that is."

            "Bran?  Do you have the time?"

            "Sure.  It's…5:45."

            "Oh no!"  Nuitari scrambled to his feet.  "I'm late for dinner!  Zylle and Gran are going to kill me!"

            "You better hurry home then.  I know from experience.  Every time I'm late to dinner, she throws a huge fit!"

            Nervously, Nuitari asked, "Why don't we meet up tomorrow then?  Here?  I've got nothing better to do."  _After all, this is the first person I've talked to that's my age around here.  I don't want to be stuck here all alone._

Bran looked abashed.  "You want to actually hang out with me?"

            "Are you busy then?  Sorry then-"

            "No, it's not that!  It's just that I'm mostly on my own a lot.  I'm not that used to having friends or anything…"

            "So you agree that we're friends, then?"

            Bran looked at Nuitari, shocked.  Then he worked out what the dark-haired boy meant.  "I guess so.  Tomorrow around one, here?"

            "Great.  See you tomorrow then!"  Nuitari sped off towards Zephyrus Court, using the wind element to make himself go faster.  He was happy that he had a new friend, but he also had other rather urgent thoughts on his mind.  _I'm so late!  They're going to kill me!  I wonder what was for dinner…what if they ate it all?!  Must run faster!_

***

Thanks to everyone who has read this and please review.  Happy birthday to my older brother!  As of August 23, 2003, my dear older sibling is now 17.  Thank the almighty for birthday cake!

There was lots of Harry/Nuitari here in this chapter.  He goes grocery shopping with Sarah and meets a ton of people.  Knowing him, he doesn't remember half of them.  We also get a glimpse of more Harry/Zylle training using the weapon summoning.  I just know I'll get a ton of questions about that.  How Hans knows that Harry's scar is the result of a dark curse is important later.  We also meet Derek Montague-Hillary, who is Stella Prewett (the Auror in-training's uncle), who was mentioned by Zacharias Orville last chapter.  Some people did catch on that Derek was an elemental, but I mentioned him before in 'Learning Something New'.  It was in that book passage:  Derek was said to have married a witch.  Stella didn't recognize Harry because his bangs were in the way and also because he had his contacts in.  Bran Ravencroft is also introduced.  The title is an obvious reference to him.  Harry just has a habit of having friends with red hair, doesn't he?  There will be more to come, I can assure you of that!

Next chapter will feature Bill Weasley, Percy's Howlers, Voldemort, an Egyptian goddess, the Staff of Kardis, and the very VERY important cat.  It's there for a reason.  I am not insane.  Not totally, anyway.

As for that little survey I asked last chapter, it's still on.  So far, I have a lot of Thanatos supporters.  Who doesn't like the comedic god of death?  You can also give advice on what to include in Percy's howlers if you wish. 

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers (Thanks!):_

**casey:  **Thanks for reading!

**AlL rOaDs LeAd To HeLl:  **I really don't like writing about guilt-trip scenes either, but unfortunately it was necessary.  They sometimes make me get depressed.  I'm sorry if you disliked it.  Don't worry; Harry is definitely going to take part in the tournament.  I've had Harry in the tournament planned since the start of this story.  As for the school thing, I can completely relate.  But school is odd, so it isn't our fault.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Orion the Hunter:  **Thanks!

**Blank_Eyes:  **No problem.  Thanatos tends to be irreverent, so this nothing new.  That's why he brings his mother in when he talks to his father.  That is a scary thought though.  Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**Artemis MoonClaw:  **This is an AU fic about Harry's fifth year summer.  Sirius won't die in this story because I like him far too much.  There will be little information tidbits from Order of the Phoenix though, like the details of Grimmauld Place, Sirius' family, where the Weasleys were, etc.  Small things.  Thanks for reading and reviewing, I hope this cleared up any confusion.  

**Fantasyangel Writer:  **Rin is pretty cool, even if we haven't seen that much of her.  That guy getting sliced is haunting you?  Umm…is that good or bad?  Good luck on your homework.  Thanks for reading and reviewing despite the oppression of school!

**hermionegreen:  **We all have our off days.  But I can assure you that the first draft was as bad as I said.  I really don't know what I was thinking when I wrote it.  Thanks for the compliments though and thanks for reviewing again.

**chaser1:  **Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Physicsfan:  **Nuitari/Harry fan?  I hope you liked this chapter!

**allison:  **Thanks for your encouragement!

**THE-PENGUIN2:  **Thanks!  So do I!  I might have to slow down practically everything when school starts.  The institution is evil!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Arsenal:  **Thanks for reading even if you prefer action more.  Hopes this satisfies a bit of Harry training.  Dudley should be coming in soon along with some death eaters and a demon.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Arashi Kaminari:  **The interruption in the power lines occurred somewhere in Ohio, I think.  And we were blaming Canada for at the beginning, so I felt the urge to apologize.  Trust me, that first draft was awful.  Thanks for your support though.  I hope you liked this chapter!

**Dying Angel1:  **I'm happy you liked Ron last chapter.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Tropic:  **Thanks; I was sort of worried about my Percy letter.  It's pretty hard to make someone sound like an arrogant, disillusioned guy who abandons his family just to get ahead.  Thanks for the encouragement!

**Caroline Hal:  **Thanatos is quite the favorite, huh?  Percy's howlers are going to be in the next chapter, so I hope you like them!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Kitta Baby:  **I'm happy you like the whole different point of view aspect of this story.  Just seeing one side to everything can get boring after a while.  Percy's howlers are in next chapter and I'm sorry I couldn't fit them in here.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Porphyrophobic Grape:  **Thanks for the compliments!  As I said before in another review, I was sort of worried about how that came out.  Sirius-ness is good, but I hope you like the Harry-ness in here.  We get a bit on Stella here and how she's connected to the elemental community.  As for the cat, I can only say wait until next chapter.  I can't give anything away!  I appreciate you reading this and I hope you liked this chapter!

**Vicious Lily:  **As you said, this will sort of be Order of the Phoenix compatible.  Don't worry about Sirius; he's staying alive and breathing.  Sirius is one of my favorite characters and when J.K. Rowling killed him off, it made me very upset.  Harry won't be going to the Department of Mysteries, since he wouldn't see Voldemort obsessing over it.  You were right about Stella Prewett and her connection to the elemental community.  Derek Montague-Hillary was mentioned in the chapter 'Learning Something New' as an elemental in the book passage that Harry read in the study.  I'm glad you caught that!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Jordan:  **Sorry about the wait, I tried to get this out fast.  Egypt is a wonderful theme for the wizarding world.  We're going to get a lot of it next chapter.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Crystal, Lily, James, and Sirius:  **I'm happy you guys like the chapter!  Thanks!  You have the computer right now?  Should the girls be worried?  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Lady Night:  **Thanks for the great review!  I'm happy people are waiting for my next chapters.  Sekhmet will make an appearance next chapter as a light goddess (one that doesn't hang on Pheta's words though.  Not all of them are airheads!).  And she'll be watching what goes on in Egypt.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**gaul1:  **Bill will have divine assistance in the claiming of the Staff of Kardis, that's a given.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Maxennce:  **Harry will get his memory back, but not for a while.  Elementals and wizards will meet up soon as the war heats up.  Thanks for reading and reviewing, I'm glad you liked it!

**Zephyris:  **I wouldn't so much call it research, really.  I love myths and their characters so I read a lot of them.  I know a lot of them, as well as a lot of Greek deities.  Harry won't remember them immediately even though they are upset over his disappearance.  The Trio will meet up again in due time though, I'll assure you.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Liedral:  **We get to see Percy's howlers next chapter, so I hope you wait for it.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Kalorna Enera:  **I completely agree with the baseball bat thing.  Both Percy and Pheta are horrible people who only look out only for themselves.  You just can't help but like Thanatos.  His exclamation at the deity council shocked a lot of people, but it was funny.  Hope you liked Harry in this chapter.  No, he won't end up hating magic.  But he does see how limited wizarding and elemental magic can be.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Wolfmoon:  **Sirius was proven innocent in 'Slashed Hopes and Shattered Dreams' in the beginning and also retook the position of Auror.  Snape was annoyed because of Sirius' happiness and "prancing".  On July 31st, Sirius was supposed to gain custody of Harry.  But even though he was innocent, he still is pretty notorious.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Prd2bAmerican18:  **I hope you liked this chapter!

**Dumbledore:  **Whoa!  Long review!  Don't worry because I love long reviews.  They let me know that a person is seriously interested in this story.  We will hear more of Raistlin in the future as he is helping Melania throughout this conflict.  It is appropriate that he's affiliated with a dark goddess.  There will be a lot more training and combat in later chapters, as well as flying!  There is an opposite of the Almighty, but he won't be coming into the story yet.  He's a nice guy though.  As we get to know the deities more, Aquarius is indeed much of a 'badass'.  That's one of the reasons he and Kybele rarely get along.  Not all of the Light Gods are like Pheta or her posse.  We'll see another Light Goddess, Sekhmet, next chapter.  Destiny will pay a visit to Harry sometime soon, but of course, he won't know who he's dealing with.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**g0ldensniget a.k.a. Snitch:  Thanks, I'm glad I made it onto your favorites list on the first chapter!  Actually I have read your story "Letters To and From A Stranger" and it really has me interested.  I hope you continue with that story and update soon.  Thanks for you compliments, I appreciate them!**

**Noctem:  Thanks for the praise!  It was hard making that letter into something that Percy would write.  I'll agree with you on the rewrite thing, it was worth it!  Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Renee Fay:  You and a lot of other people like Thanatos.  You really can't help it though.  Thanks for all the compliments.  I'm really grateful.  As for our dear Harry, he now has a new friend he can pal around with.  We get to listen in on Percy's howlers next chapter, so we'll get to hear the rage of Mrs. Weasley and Ron.  That'll be good.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	18. In the Tombs of Cursed Sands

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Eighteen:  In the Tombs of Cursed Sands

            "Weasley, put these records on file."  Cornelius Fudge handed Percy Weasley a large pile of parchment before picking up another roll.

            Percy hurried out of the opulent office with the records with a rushed and reverent, "Yes, sir!"  He didn't notice the minister take out a magazine as soon as his back was turned.  This was in all respects a mixed blessing.  The Minister of Magic shouldn't be reading a magazine like THAT.  Percy's opinion of the Ministry would have probably changed to one of contempt if he ever caught the Minster reading an inappropriate magazine like that during work hours.  He was abhorrent of that kind of behavior in the workplace.

            He had found a small apartment in a decent London neighborhood with good rent and was living relatively comfortably.  Penelope, his long-time girlfriend, was planning on moving in as well.  She had taken a desk job in the Improper Use of Magic Department and had a long commute.  Not only would they be together that way, it would also be convenient.  He smiled fondly at the thought of the curly-haired girl.  

            Not only did he have a great girlfriend, but also a fantastic job that he could only dream about.  It appeared that all the work and effort that he had put in while under Mr. Crouch paid off.  Now he was the aide to the prestigious Minister of Magic.  Could it get any better?

            _Well,_ he thought.  _It could have been better._  He sat down at his desk with a frown.  All around him people busily milled about like ants in an anthill.  _Why are they listening to Dumbledore?  He's only spouting nonsense and they're swallowing it!_  Percy unconsciously organized the papers into neat piles.  His entire family had turned their backs on him when he told them of his promotion.  His father was especially angry.  A lot of horrible words had been said on both sides.

            It was not as if he hated Dumbledore.  No, he greatly respected the elderly wizard.  But he was taking the word of a boy who could speak Parseltongue, a Death Eater, and using his own view of what had been going on.  Had it never occurred to him that not all the signs pointed to the resurrection of the Dark Lord?  Why did he hold such little trust in such a high and esteemed establishment as the English Ministry of Magic?  Preposterous. 

            He had sent a letter to Ron just yesterday.  Percy was proud that the often-overlooked youngest male Weasley had been made prefect.  Ron had always tried to gain recognition, which was hard since almost everything to achieve that credit had been done before by either himself or the other Weasley boys before him.  He had enclosed his enthusiastic congratulations in that correspondence.  Then, after he sent it, he wondered if Ron had only received the position because Harry Potter had disappeared.

            Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.  The arrival of the black-haired, emerald-eyed celebrity to the Burrow was always an anticipated event.  His father would smile happily, his mother would fuss, the twins would plan tricks, and Ron would be ecstatic, while Ginny would smile dreamily to herself.  Percy himself never saw what was so special about his brother's famous best friend.  He was nice, sure, but he was so shy and soft-spoken.  Harry always seemed flustered and embarrassed at any attention thrown towards him.  His actions at school, though, seemed to counter this.  Everyone knew of the grudges between him and the Slytherin house, in particular against Draco Malfoy and Professor Severus Snape.  He had become Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in his first year and in his entire record had lost only one game, while helping the team win the Quidditch Cup.  He found the Sorcerer's Stone with the help of Ron and Hermione as well in that year.  He was thought to be the infamous Heir of Slytherin in second year, but at the end of the year he had found the Chamber of Secrets, killed a basilisk, and saved his little sister.  Third year, he survived an encounter with both a werewolf and the notorious Sirius Black (then still considered to be a criminal).  Finally, in fourth year, Harry had competed in the Triwizard Tournament as a fourth champion.  After the final task, he returned from out of nowhere with the Triwizard Cup and the dead body of Cedric Diggory while claiming You-Know-Who had returned.  He could speak Parseltongue and had fits during classes (yes, he had read Rita Skeeter).  The boy seemed to ask for it.

            Two red letters dropping into the inbox of his immaculate desk tore Percy from his musings.  _Uh oh.  I better run._  He made to grab them and run.  But it was too late.  The first Howler exploded and the magnified voice of a very angry Ronald Michael Weasley filled the hall.

            "HOW CAN YOU GO AND WRITE THAT LETTER TO ME, YOU GIT?!  IF HARRY SAYS THE DARK LORD IS BACK THEN HE IS!  I DON'T THINK THAT CEDRIC JUST DROPPED DEAD IN THE THIRD TASK!  HOW DO YOU JUSTIFY THAT?  AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HARRY'S DISAPPEARANCE?!  DO YOU KNOW HOW BAD HARRY WAS HURT BY THOSE MUGGLES?!  THAT HE WROTE 'HELP' ALL OVER HIS ROOM IN HIS OWN BLOOD?!  HARRY HATES HIS FAME AND WOULD NEVER TO SOMETHING LIKE THAT JUST TO GAIN ATTENTION.  ALL HE WANTS IN LIFE IS TO LIVE NORMALLY AND HAVE FRIENDS AND FAMILY, THINGS THAT WE TAKE FOR GRANTED!  I SUPPORT HARRY AND DUMBLEDORE!  NEVER TRY TO SPEAK TO OR CONTACT ME AGAIN!"

            Everyone had quieted down to a ringing silence.  But the worst had yet to come.  The second Howler began to smoke and exploded.  Now his mother's livid voice reverberated in the hall.

            "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU CAN SAY SUCH THINGS ABOUT YOUR FAMILY!  THAT INCLUDES HARRY!  WHAT HAS HARRY DONE THAT SUGGESTED HE WAS SELF-CENTERED AND ATTENTION GRABBING?!  ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!  DO YOU KNOW WHAT THOSE MUGGLES HAVE DONE TO HIM?!  AND AFTER ALL HE HAD JUST BEEN THROUGH?!  I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE UNCARING AND INHUMANE!  CUT YOUR TIES WITH US IF YOU WANT!  AT LEAST WE ARE TRYING TO PREVENT THE LOSS OF LIVES BY SUPPORTING AN 'OLD COOT'!"

            The hall was deathly quiet.

            The man in the dark robes respectfully kneeled before Voldemort to speak.  "My Lord, if I may ask:  why do you wish us to look for this staff?"

            Voldemort replied, "Because that staff will give us a huge advantage over Dumbledore, that muggle-loving fool."  _Not to mention help me gain the power needed to open the Dark Gateway._

            "How so, my Lord?"

            Scarlet eyes narrowed and the demon twirled his yew wand casually between his fingers.  "Are you questioning me, Avery?"

            "No, my Lord!  Not at all!  Plea-please forgive-" 

            He was cut off by Voldemort brandishing his wand and in a low voice saying, "Crucio."  Avery's screams rang through the chamber.  If the other Death Eaters reacted, they did not show it from behind their masks.  Finally, Voldemort stopped the curse.  His servant fell to the floor in a slump, panting hoarsely.  Voldemort only smirked at this.  "Don't question me, Avery.  I hope that **little** lesson reminded you of your place."  Avery barely inclined his head in response.  Voldemort barked, "Malfoy!"

            A death eater in slightly more lavish robes than the others came forward.  The man behind the white mask bowed deferentially.  "Yes, my Lord?"

            "Gringotts is planning to excavate the Tomb of Cursed Sands in Egypt, where the staff is.  We will let them recover it for us and then we will strike.  You are to lead this operation."

            "It is a honor, my Lord.  I will try not to fail."

            "See that you don't.  As for the rest of you, continue the random attacks and **don't** get caught.  That will keep Dumbledore busy and continue to throw that hapless Ministry into disarray."  The death eaters nodded.  "This meeting is over.  But remember," he said viciously, wand sparking dangerous green sparks.  "I will not accept failure."

            Almost as one, every death eater of his apparated out of Serpent Castle, his base in a remote and deserted moor of Wales.  With a sharp crack of red sparks, Voldemort himself disappeared from his throne room and reappeared at the top of the highest tower in the complex.  A faint wind rustled his robes and he looked up at the structure that stood stark against the veil of the ancient night goddess.

            Before him was a freestanding threshold made of an unidentifiable dark crystal, shot from the inside by gold and silver.  Forbidding iron doors, shielded and strengthened by the smoldering red runes sunk into the metal, further gave off the aura of pure darkness.  The emblem of darkness lastly sealed the doors that neither he nor the great goddess Pheta could break:  the winged silver dragon of Tartarus.  Voldemort grinned sinisterly.  _Soon, this gateway into the realm of the darkest of the dark realms will be open.  Then, Lady Pheta will have her revenge._

            "So, where is the tomb?"  Bill Weasley was hot.  Not in the way that most girls he had met thought of him, but as in the temperature 'hot'.  He added a little more ice to his water glass.  Currently, he was wearing a white t-shirt, a many-pocketed vest, and khaki pants along with his usual dragonhide boots.  If his attire didn't make him stand out against the shift wearing and veiled locals of Malak-Javeh, then it was his pale skin and long red hair tied back into a ponytail.  It was better that he dressed this way though.  Malak-Javeh was largely a muggle settlement.  So far, many thought him to be some archaeologist or some other kind of muggle.  He could imagine what they would think if he showed up in full wizarding robes.  The man across from him wore similar attire, but unlike Bill, he seemed apprehensive.

            "I don't know, Bill…there has to be a reason why the security wards are so strong.  Maybe we're supposed to stay out of it…"

            "That doesn't answer my question, Dan.  Where's the tomb?"

            "I don't know.  I don't even know if it's actually a tomb there."

            "What?!"

            "Listen," Dan sighed.  "We've never seen the place actually.  There's a huge force field around it.  We assume it's a tomb.  Also, it's charmed so that its location is never remembered.  Our only guide is a cat."

            "A cat," Bill repeated slowly, disbelieving.  "Our only guide is a **cat**."

            "Well, when you see it you'll understand.  We don't think it's normal."

            Bill took a sip of water.  It was very hot today.  The sun glared down harshly on them, even under the canopy of the outdoor café they were sitting in.  The stone buildings of the town seemed to be 'air-conditioned'.  Unlike his father (who interrogated him endlessly over this), he understood this wonderful muggle appliance.  He wished he were in a room with one right now.  Even the usually verdant date trees looked to be sweltering in this heat.

            Then, it hit him.

            Looking back on the situation later, he would not be able to describe the feeling.  It was like a drastic and urgent shock to his system.  He would call it a flash of intuition or a premonition, but he really didn't hold with Divination.  He only took that subject in school for an easy grade.  But this was different.  Immediately, he looked around to find what caused it.  _Nothing.  But what was THAT?_

            "Bill?  You alright?"

            "Don't worry, it's nothing."  But even as he waved it off, he could still feel that whatever had done that was nearby.  His attention was soon drawn to something else.  It wasn't hard to miss; it was the only living thing outside on the street other than them.  It was a sleek black cat, walking lithely down the street as if it owned it.  Its paws were silver and the tips of its ears and tail were a metallic gold.  It continued to saunter down the avenue as if it were royalty, but at the same time it was watching everything with alert green eyes.  Judging from its path, it was heading for the desert. 

            Dan reluctantly stood up.  "There's our guide.  I'll get the crew.

            "Right," Bill concurred as he grabbed his hat and backpack.

            Neither of the two men noticed the woman garbed in golden yellow watching them with keen interest ablaze in deep hazels, her face masked by a veil.  A few black strands could be seen falling into the mystic eyes.  A few minutes after they had left, she too started to make her way into the desert.

            Uneasiness clawed at his brain, urging him to leave and never come back.

            He and his group of seven men had followed that strange cat into the desert.  Bill was happy that plenty of water had been brought with them for the heat was brutal.  Still, they trudged through the pale gold and ivory sands.  He looked down and noticed that the ground was becoming slightly more stony and solid.  Then, he ran into it.

            "OW!"  It felt as though he just ran headfirst into a brick wall.  Around him, he heard his colleagues curse out various profanities as they too encountered the barrier.  Squinting, he could barely see the black lissome silhouette of the cat behind what seemed to be a shimmering curtain.  "Guys," Dan called out.  "I think we've found it."

            "No, we're just stopping here to have a party!  Oy, Chris, break out the champagne!"  That remark came from Rudy Steinberg, their sarcastic rune expert.  All too soon, everyone in their ten-member party began talking at once.

            "Shut up!"  Everyone quieted as Bill shouted his into the sharp heated air.  _Hmm…it seems I have the same effect on people that Mum has._  Pushing that thought aside, he tapped the force field experimentally.  "This looks like a simple shield spell, only it just has a whole lot of power behind it.  We could bring the shield down if we do a counter charm all together."

            The expedition crew, as one, raised their wands and chanted, "FINITE INCANTATEM!"  

            Bill could feel the shield resisting their attempts and put more power into the charm.  He felt the others with him do the same.  But the shield was not budging, but merely absorbing the spell.  _What is this?!_

            Right then, he felt that strange shock again.  With a brief flicker, the shield died.  They weren't expecting what would appear behind it though.

            A pyramid of shining white marble stood in front of them, veined in black streaks.  Towering obelisks of the same stone rose out of the sands to form a square around the structure, presumably the endpoints of the force field.  A stale wind kicked up powdered earth and dirt into their faces.  Overall, the whole thing was gigantic.

            Dan stuttered, "Wh-what is this?!"  Bill didn't reply, but he couldn't help but agree with his stammered incredulity.  The building was amazing.  With unspoken assent, they all stepped forward beyond where the barrier blocked them.  He had not taken more than two steps forward when a huge spike shot up from the ground, it's deadly edge glinting.  Then, with sharp shaft sounds, similar spikes rose up from the sands around them.  They practically covered the entire area around the tomb.

            Rudy caustically said, "Well, we're stuck."

            "No, wait," said a good-looking man with an eye patch over his left eye.  Bill remembered how he lost it.  In school, someone was foolishly waving their wand around in the hallways.  Unintentionally, they caused a pencil to start zooming across the room.  It unfortunately embedded itself in this man's eye as he was innocently walking down the corridor.  Madame Pomfrey did all she could, but didn't manage to save the eye.  This was a large blow to they Slytherin house:  Wyvern Irving was the best seeker they had ever had.  They had to drop him and soon after, Charlie started joined the Gryffindor team and started to win matches for the house.  _I guess some skills just don't fade.  _"That cat got through just fine, there's no reason why we can't as well.  There is a path to the door, but it's just hard to see because of the spikes.  The start should be…there!"  He pointed to an area about five feet away.

            As they wended their way towards the pyramid entrance, none of them noticed that they were being watched.  Hazel eyes behind a yellow veil observed them.  The figure of a woman in gold could be seen sitting on the top of one of the obelisks.

            "This just isn't normal," announced Wyvern.  "Traps are supposed to activate with us in them, not when we're a few steps before it.  It doesn't make sense."

            Rudy raised an eyebrow.  "You're complaining?"

            Bill broke in with, "It implies that there's something not right here.  The spells here are incredibly powerful and the fact that they're malfunctioning just before we land in them is odd."  He had mixed feelings about this.  On a health level, he was glad.  The last room had flamethrowers in the walls.  On another level, it disconcerted him.  _Is someone watching us?_  What irked him most about this whole state of affairs was that cat.

            Something was definitely different about that cat.  For one reason, black cats weren't normal in hot desert climates.  They absorbed too much heat and stood out too much in the pale environment.  It was obviously magical:  no other cat would have silver feet and gold-tipped ears and tail.  _Not to mention its green eyes,_ pondered Bill as he and his crew progressed through the corridor with wands lit with the Lumos spell, _seem like they could see any and everything._  Bill's last reasons to how he knew the cat was magical lie outside in the first chamber they had entered.  Tin the room where the vibrant colors of hieroglyphics still shone through under a blanket of aged dust, were hundreds of bones and skeletons.  With its pristine exterior, the group was not expecting this sight.  A majority of the bones were desert rodents, but the remains of men also were scattered about.  He swore he saw the bones of a nundu(*) in there.  One thing about that eerie was that he was certain of was that the cat had inexplicably killed all them.  He didn't know how, but he knew it did.  It was in that room that they found a clue as to what this strange tomb was for, thanks to Rudy (he demanded this thanks with a great deal of whining):

Stranger who dares to defy the will of the great ones

_What do you hope to seek in this tomb found in the cursed sands?_

_The staff of ancients that binds the destructive entity known as Kardis_

_Will bring naught but ill to all those not of immortal blood  _

_Kingdoms will fall, the dead will rise, and iron will turn to gold_

_Nature will repel against all law and chaos will reign supreme_

_Do you still wish to find Kardis under these cursed sands?_

            Apparently, the treasure hidden here was a magical tool or amplifier of some kind.  Gringotts wouldn't want it.  But it would be useful to the Order of the Phoenix.  He wouldn't tell this to his companions though.  Many of them, excluding himself and Rudy, were Ministry supporters.  Though, actually he wasn't too sure about Wyvern.  Then again, he was a Slytherin and who knows where they place their loyalties.  Under this curious message were yet more lines of vague rune, nearly covered in a flaky red substance.  It looked like blood.

_The three powers will work together again after millennia of separation._

_The Almighty who wields authority over all will move the pieces into play_

_The Universe will send her dark children against the worshipped one._

_The Chaos will launch his demon armies over land, sea, and celestial mist._

_The Gateways will open and the Tower of the Grey Ancients will rise again._

_The Sovereign will rise from oblivion while the Storm Harbinger will come to power._

            And lastly…the lines of rune that filled him with an unexplainable feeling of fate…

**If one puts his trust into that of the eternal dark goddess, he will not be disappointed.  Even the mighty Osiris of the Nile makes way for her greatness.  Long live those in the service of Melania Amarna, the dark queen of the dead.**

            They continued to follow the cat, which ignored them.  It guided them to what seemed to be the last corridor, which lead to…

            …an empty chamber.

            Dan loudly exclaimed, "What the hell?!"  The room with the blank walls and floor of bare earth was completely devoid of anything, except the cat.  It just walked in and turned around, fixing them with what seemed to be a laughing green stare.  It's black and gold tail swished across the dusty floor in an amused manner.  Behind him, he heard Dan growl in anger.  "We went all this way…to get nothing?!"

            Wyvern glared at him.  "So what?  We knew that treasure wasn't promised in this mission since we didn't know what was here in the first place.  Since we didn't know what this was, our expectations naturally were low.  And our low expectations were fulfilled.  As least we have more experience with tougher charms now."

            "Calm down, Dan," Bill ordered.

            "No, I won't!"  Dan lunged at the cat and grabbed it before it could dodge.  It clearly wasn't expecting them to attack.  He held the struggling animal by its neck, trying to choke the life out of it.  "You can take your expectations and experience and shove them somewhere else!  We didn't come all this way to be disappointed!"

            "STUPEFY!  Bill shot the stunning curse at the man, who promptly let go of the snarling feline and collapsed to the ground.  Moving quickly, he ran forward to catch it before it hit the ground.

            He didn't catch a cat though.  He now held a staff in his grubby, dusty hands.

            Cloaking himself in dark shadows, Thanatos watched the woman in the golden dress and veil, not letting her know that he was there.  He had felt a disturbance from this area and went to check it out.  He had heard from the reaper known as Ptolemy Shadis that some Gringotts tomb breakers were in the area.  It wasn't that hard to put two and two together.  And here he was at the Tomb of Cursed Sands and look at whom he found there:  Sekhmet, goddess of the deserts, protector of the noble, brave, and innocent.  _If I know Sekhmet, she's done something.  Hopefully, he'll come to answer my question, albeit indirectly.  Yep._  He watched as a bright light flashed next to the woman.  _Light-born gods are so predictable.  _The death god smirked.  _Especially ones as high up on the light-born hierarchy as these two are._  

            A tall, muscular man with long blond hair tied back into a ponytail stood next to the woman sitting on top of the stone tower.  He was thickset with broad shoulders and a glint of intelligence shown clear in callous light brown eyes.  Unlike his casual mostly muggle attire and Sekhmet's golden gown, he wore white robes with the symbol of the sun stitched on them.  Currently, he was looking down on goddess with an expression of curiosity, exasperation, and anger.  "Sekhmet," he said in a deep voice.  The power of the sun's rays pouring down on the area seemed to grow even brighter and stronger.  _Figures.  I knew that the oh-so-mighty sun god would show his face sooner or later.  I wonder what they've done now._  "Why are you here in this accursed place?"

            She looked at the man with narrowed hazel eyes.  "Keeping an eye on my own, Helios."

            "You mean the red-haired one?"

            "Correct.  He is under my protection.  One does not see one from the north come down to my deserts with such courage and morality.  I dare not lose one so rare as him."

            "Which is why you disabled the traps?"  Thanatos raised an eyebrow.  _Disabled the traps?  Here?  Crap. _ Helios continued.  "They were placed there for a reason.  Kardis is a dangerous spirit with amazing power.  Mortals have channeled and misused it before."

            "It is best that it is moved.  If it encounters the right person to serve, it would not be so hazardous for the world."

            "There aren't that many people to choose from," admonished Helios.  "Kardis will work for anyone that it accepts as a worthy master, but if the person does not have the blood of an immortal flowing through their veins then they are doomed to die after channeling the power ten times.  A person without the special ancestry needed will only die because of the amount of power needed to control the spirit.  And as you know, those who carry the line of the gods with in them are rare now.  I believe only about fifty remain."

            Sekhmet scowled.  "I know.  And your dear sister wants them eliminated."

            Helios shrugged, "Pheta never would think things through.  She does not care anymore since Hyperion Apollyon, her last mortal descendant, died about three centuries ago.  Not to mention, she still has that grudge against Melania."

            "Why does she hate her so much?"  _It's obvious!  Come on, why they hate each other is right in front of your eyes!  Idiots…why am I the only smart one?_

"It is not our place to know," replied Helios.  "Pheta is stubborn and will never admit that she is wrong.  While she is in the right, Melania Amarna of Annuvin does not have the support of dozens of gods behind her.  At the moment, it is best not to get involved.  But let us return to the situation at hand.  You are taking a large risk."

            "Sometimes great risks must be taken.  We will see who Kardis will choose as its master, whether they be of mortal or immortal descent."

            _I wonder who will react worse to this little development, Mel or Rin?  _

***

Thanks to all who have read this and please don't hesitate to review!  Sorry about the late update.  Because I felt bad for making you wait, I've made this chapter longer than my usual.  I've been busy throughout this entire week and it won't help when school starts next Wednesday.  

Moving on.  Percy really got it from Ron and Mrs. Weasley.  Please note that I really don't know if that is Ron's real middle name.  Also, we now know that Pheta has definitely informed Voldemort about the staff and we see a glimpse of the Dark Gateway.  The seal on the doors was mentioned before in 'On the Shores of Eternity'.  Harry encountered them while in Lethe.  It's right before he meets Tom. 

Bill and his crew have entered the Tomb of Cursed Sands, where the staff of Kardis was hidden.  The woman following him and making sure that they got through safely was the light-born goddess Sekhmet.  Helios, the sun god, appeared later.  They did all the explaining while Thanatos listened in.  We also learned that Pheta's last mortal descendant died years ago.  That's important later.  The last two sets of runes are important as well.  Melania Amarna is obviously Melania, the Dark Lady. 

As this will cause a bit of confusion let me explain.  The cat is Kardis.  In the runes that were translated by Rudy Steinberg, '_the staff of ancients that binds the destructive entity known as Kardis' _states that Kardis is a spirit.  The staff binds it so that a person can use Kardis' power.  However, the person handling it (the 'master') needs to use his own energy to channel Kardis.  Hence, normal people can only use the staff for a certain number of times, while a mortal with immortal ancestors would be protected.  We'll see who ends up with Kardis soon.

(*) The definition of a nundu straight from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.  

NUNDU-  _This East African beast is arguably the most dangerous in the world.  A gigantic leopard that moves silently despite its size and whose breath causes diseases virulent enough to eliminate entire villages, it has never yet bee subdued by fewer than a hundred skilled wizards working together._

Quite a cat, huh? 

Next chapter features Dudley, death eaters, a demon, a few wizards, gadgets, and Dudley's friends.  Hopefully, it will be finished soon.

By the way, Thanatos has one my little survey by an overwhelming majority.  Though a lot of people also liked Melania as well.  And please read Noctem's fic The False Mage.  It's a really good story and deserves more reviews.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_A Whole Lot of Reviewers (sorry, sorry!):_

**Wolfmoon:  **I know and I'm really sorry about that.  The problem with only having one Internet line is that everyone wants to use it at the same time.  A lot of the time, as soon as I go on, my dad comes home and needs to use it.  And in the hierarchy in the house, my dad is higher than I am.  So, I must oblige.  I like dropping little hints everywhere.  It reminds me of a good mystery:  all the clues are there and you need to piece them together.  Thanks!

**dali:  **Thanks for reading!  There will be a lot more scenes with Harry and Zylle in them coming up, since Zylle is training him.

**Crystal, Lily, James, and Sirius:  **Thanks for the warning!  I better get myself prepared because who knows what James and Sirius will do.  I appreciate the review!

**Arashi Kaminari:  **Melania is pretty cool as she's pretty much like an ordinary woman, except with a nemesis and a brother who exposed dumb seals to crack.  Isn't the night the best time of all?  And you're right, we all should move on from that.  Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**DaughterofDeath:  **Here's the new chapter.

**Zephyris:  **I liked elemental weapon summoning idea so I put that in.  There are other forms of it.  For example, Hans was said to have a broad axe.  Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**Porphyrophobic Grape:  **Harry is just the type to get attention even when he hasn't really done anything.  It must be in the Potter genes to be friends with/like redheads.  Bran, we will see, doesn't act like Ron.  Weapon summoning will be explained, but I'm sorry for keeping you in the dark.  Harry will have more encounters with the residents of Grey Tower soon.  There are a lot of people for him to meet!  Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**OrionTheHunter:  **I don't think that people will be finding out about dear old Harry all too soon.  The elemental community is pretty secluded from the wizarding world.  We'll see that most of the wizards and witches in Grey Tower wouldn't think that Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived since they don't stay up to date with wizarding news.  Stella is the exception:  she's the niece of Derek's deceased wife Ophelia.  Derek likes her, so he told her that he was an elemental.  But it would be funny.  I appreciate the review!

**fullsailnate:  **Yep.  Evidently, the inventor of algebra still has a lot to do in the world.  We're definitely going to see more of the elemental weapons soon.  Bran is sort of a cross between Ron and Hermione, but we'll see that he's also his own personality as well.  I certainly wasn't going to leave poor Night friendless!  Yes, the two techniques he'll learn will be powered up.  Not to mention the fact that Sarah's technique is already known for being destructive.  Thanks for the compliments and the review.  

**purplefluffychainsaw:  **Thanks for the compliments on the Percy letter.  Can you really see him writing that to Ron?  The gods are all unique and there are plenty more than those introduced at the council.  In this chapter, we meet Sekhmet and Helios.  As for 'Nirvana', Nirvana isn't really a myth.  In Buddhism, Nirvana is the ultimate state of enlightenment.  Outside religion and myth, it's a band.  You can tell which one I'm referring to though.  Pheta is not good even though she's a light goddess.  I always see the kids in my school copying the worst person in the world so I sort of transferred it here.  I'm glad you like Dudley!  There's a Dudley chapter next.  I hope this satisfies your need to know the cat!  Thanks for the review!

**B0B:  **Here it is!

**Arsenal:  **The death eater attack in Surrey was long in the works, but it's coming up next.  Let's just say that Dudley's going to rule in that one.  Thanks for the review!

**Kahlessk:  **The tournament should be starting late September, so Night has enough time to settle in and train.  As for Derek Montague-Hillary and Montague on the Slytherin team, yes they are related, but very VERY distantly.  Not as distantly as Harry/Night and Tom, but distantly.  I won't go into it right now, but it's important later.  Good call!

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **I'm happy this still has your interest!  Thanks!

**Artemis MoonClaw:  **Nope, he isn't a zombie.  He's alive and well.  I'm glad that cleared that up for you.  There was a lot to cover in this chapter.  Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**chaser1:  **Thanks for the review!

**gaul1:  **Hedwig keeps an eye out for Harry at all times especially when in places with a lot of Pheta-influence.  Even if he's in some tough situation, she'll be there to help him.  I appreciate the review!

**Tropic:  **This chapter did have a lot going on.  Thanks for reading!

**SiRiUsLy ObSeSsEd1:  **We get to see more of Harry training and Bran real soon.  It would have been interesting if Stella recognized Harry/Night, but then I'd have to scrap my entire plot!  As for the end of the chapter, it only shows how good Sarah's cooking is.  Is it any wonder why Hans always shows up at mealtimes?  I'm glad you got to see your family over the summer.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**knot2be:  **I'm glad you're interested and we will see a lot more Nuitari to come.  As time goes on, he'll be dominating the chapters though we will get snippets from Dudley and the old crew as well.  I appreciate the review!

**wanderingwolf:  **Thanks for the Howler ideas!  They didn't put in the Daily Prophet though because they didn't want to cause a muggle-killing mob.  The death eaters are enough.  I felt that I might as well use some canon from Book 5 while it's there since it gives a bit more background on characters that we didn't know much about.  Bran and Harry/Night will have their adventures soon.  I'm sure everyone will just 'love' Simeon Bradley.  I hope this quelled your impatience about the cat.  As of now, I'm going to just concentrate on this story.  I don't want to divide up my attention and make updates longer.  Thanks for the review!

**two2feet:  **It is all confusing, but isn't life one whole big mess?  Harry's coming up in two chapters, so don't worry.  I've got everyone interested in that cat!  Thanks for the review!

**Dumbledore:  **I'm sorry it was short, but I'm glad you liked it anyways.  Thanks!  

**Blank_Eyes:  **It does bulk up the chapter a lot, usually by two or more pages.  I would add an appendix, but I want to keep the chapter numbers together for organization's sake.  Thanks for the review!

**Kitta Baby:  **There's just something about Harry, huh?  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Prd2bAmerican:  **I'm happy to hear that!

**Angelis1:  **Here it is, Ron's Howler to Percy.  I hope you liked it!

**Phil:  **Thanks for the compliments.  Yep, Percy was definitely embarrassed.  Stella couldn't recognize him:  she saw the similarity, but Harry Potter wears glasses and has green eyes.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**darknessflameyoukai:  **I'm glad you like this!  Trust me, it will be a while.  Are you a Yu Yu Hakusho fan?  I'm just going by your pen name here.  I'm thankful for the review!

**Kalorna Enera:  **I hope you liked Percy's Howlers.  As for why Bran was so surprised by Harry wanting to hang out with him, that will be explained.  Let's just say it involves Simeon Bradley.  I hope you liked the cat!  Thanks for the review and the birthday message!

**Vicious Lily:  **Well, he wouldn't want to miss Sarah's excellent cooking, even if they are mad at him!  Bran is smart, but he's not totally like Hermione.  As to how he snuck up on Harry, we'll find out how he does it.  I love Sirius, so he's staying in the realm of the living.  As for Stella, she will be sort of upset that Harry Potter was right there the entire time, I will guarantee that.  As for Sirius and Zylle react towards each other, we'll see.  Harry's family doesn't know that Night is Harry, but Hans does have experience with dark curses.  It was just something that he doesn't want to get into.  I'm sorry I kept you waiting!

**Savi2070:  **Thanks for all the compliments and the blocks will be coming down.  As for why he's concentrating a lot on wind, it's because that's Zylle's specialty.  He'll get trained in the other elements as well soon, with people we've already met.  I like different point of views, that way I see everything at once.  Dudley's coming up next chapter.  I'm sorry that you don't like how I portrayed Percy, but remember the ministry disillusions him.  There's still hope for him.  Thanks for reviewing!

**Quatre Winner:  **Ah, a fellow Gundam Wing fan!  Thanatos does act like Duo.  I really didn't notice that.  Dudley shows up next chapter.  Thanks for reviewing!

**theauthorthatwrites:  **It clashed at the beginning?  That's bad.  But I'm glad that you see that everything is coming together.  I'm grateful for the review!

**Wytil:  **I agree completely with your view of the elemental genre.  It's nice to see different points of view on magic.  Harry does remember some spells, but since he's in the elemental community, he's adjusting to their type of magic now.  The competition will be fun to write and of course it will be important.  It decides who the future leaders of the clans are.  Thanks for the review!

**Liedral:  **It's going to be a long time when Harry will recover his memories.  As for the tournament, it should take place in late September, giving Harry enough time to train.  We'll see what he learns next, but he will learn some water and earth techniques.

**Fantasyangel Writer:  **We meet Sekhmet here and I hope you liked her.  The cat is seriously important isn't it?  Bran is pretty cool and he'll play larger roles soon.  Thanks for the review and the birthday message!

**lily pad 14:  **Thanks for your support, Lils!

**Firehedgehog:  **Thanks for your support!

**Dara Maeko:  **I'm happy you like the story so much.  When I first saw your message, I was wondering why you weren't bouncing.  Then, you bounced.  Don't worry; the best of us are already insane.  Thanks for the review!

**Annabelle:  **Harry won't be getting the skinny, unhealthy, pinched look.  I think personally he has that already.  But with his new home, things can only get better for him.  I'm glad you like my story so far and I hope you continue with it.

**Rogue1615:  **I still haven't decided how Harry/Night will react towards wizards yet.  We'll just have to see where that goes I guess.  His personality will definitely start changing since he won't be treated horribly at Grey Tower.  I think I'm going to make him a little more fun loving and easy-going, not completely paranoid and nervous like he was before.  There will be more magic-tech combinations.  The next chapter will have a few of them, though those are tuned to spirit energy.  The elementals are pretty resourceful so it'd be interesting to see what I come up with.  Thanks for the review, Rogue!

**Gyr: **Wow.  That's all I have to say.  Wow.  I'll have to break this up.  This is going to be long!

_Chapter 14:_  There are a lot of mysteries surrounding the Phantom Wars and they'll soon be coming to the light.  As for if those with affinities for more than one element, it depends largely on the elemental.  It is interesting how Grindelwald overcame the one weakness of the elementals, which is why the Phantom Wars are so interesting in this.  .  We'll go in depth with the wars and the crystals soon.  There will be life-and-death combats soon and the return of the Phantom Elementals is inevitable.  And of course, Zylle is a prime target.

_Chapter 15,16:  _Thanatos is definitely sneakier than he looks, but he's fun.  As for why Kybele, Aquarius, and Rin voiced their views on the pointlessness of the meeting, we'll see why when Melania finds out about the staff of Kardis.  Stella is Derek's niece, but is no relation to him.  But he likes her, so he told her.  Yes, Umbridge will be there, but who will lead the Hogwarts rebellion will be a shock.  As for why the elementals and their relatives don't have their suspicions, it's because they don't read the Daily Prophet.  

_Chapter 17:  _Yep, some things can't be changed.  As to why Bran was so suspicious of Harry, he has a good reason that will be explained soon.  I'm glad you liked Percy's letter and Ron's response.  You enjoy the little clues I leave?  I really like it when authors do that, so I try to include that in my writing as well.  No, Pierce Rowan himself summoned the daggers.  He and Sarah though are both fire elementals.  The animosity between the Rekka-Ki and Arashi-Tenku is mostly a friendly competitive rivalry.  The Crowleys just dislike Zylle.  David Crowley will be seen soon.  Some demons can do this, others can't.  The demons will be pretty unique in this.  But weapon summoning is not an uncommon ability.  Sekhmet is Bill's divine assistance.  And we know that Rin will not be happy about the re-emergence of Kardis.  We'll see where that goes soon.  

That was really REALLY long.  But I hope you liked the answers, nonetheless.


	19. First Encounters

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter 19:  First Encounters

            "Do you sense it, Cami?"

            "Yeah," the blind girl responded.  "It's not that far away.  Probably in the next alley."

            One doubtlessly would be wondering why four fifteen year-olds would be wandering in the back streets of a notoriously shady London neighborhood.  They had good reason to though.  After all, the thing they were looking for was something that would hang out in such a dingy and dirty place.  That said something was almost certainly a thing that most people would take great care to avoid.  But then being asked a favor by a goddess who saved your live would certainly make Dudley Dursley far from normal.

            Dudley Dursley and Jerry Maplethorpe lead the way between the dark shadows formed by the two crumbling brick tenements.  Behind them was a collected Cami Weaver, flanked by her faithful canine, and an alert Alyce Whitbaker.  They were being guided by both the exceptional senses of Cami and the device given by the Shadow Goddess.

            How he found out about his friends' talents was a complete accident.  Already he had mastered summoning his spirit energy and was using different forms of it.  One was the sword, which had a lot of force behind it.  Another was a shield that he could use to defend himself against long-range or magical attacks.  One of his favorites was the gun.  So far, he had three concentrated shots.  There were more manifestations of spirit energy, but Dudley decided to stick with the basics right now and as he grew stronger, learn more complex techniques.  Cami found out first.  According to the book, normal humans had trouble seeing or sensing spirit energy unless a great deal of it was gathered in one area.  Having this knowledge, Dudley practiced in his backyard.  The cinder blocks he used vaporized into dust with every attack.  He figured that he would be done before his friends arrived.  Dudley had invited them over to his house to play some video games.  However, Cami came early.

            At first, he didn't think it was much of a problem.  But then she asked what were the bright flashes of light that came from his hands.  She also said that those bright lights could be seen a mile away.  That had been quite a shock to him.

            In the end (with help from Spirit Energy:  A Guide), they figured out that Cami was very 'spiritually aware'.  That meant that she could sense demons, ghosts, and powerful humans though the spirit energy produced by them.  "I never knew that was what it was," Cami said when they found their answer.  She had been doing it since she was young and it was her way of recognizing people.  It was soon after she said that did they realize that Jerry and Alyce were also there, but didn't announce their presence.  After the initial confusion (and denial), he had to explain everything that was going on INCLUDING Harry, the wizarding world, and the Shadow Goddess.  Again, he was relatively certain that they would abandon him, if not for being weird but also insane.

            Surprisingly, they had been eager to help him out.  They said a lot of things that happened in the world were explained.  Though Dudley did wonder if he would get in trouble for telling regular people about the existence of wizards, but it was necessary to.  Jerry said that it certainly clarified several animals under examination that had soundly stumped his parents (he recalled when some crazy chap named Aberforth Dumbledore brought in a very strange goat).  Alyce was just relieved that the cloaked guy who came into Culinary Delights everyday for the marble cake wasn't insane.  No matter how much he tried to convince them not to get involved, they insisted on taking part in his mission.

            So now, he wasn't alone in his task to take out aggressive demons.  Alyce discovered she had spirit power herself, but most of it was of the healing or defensive variety.  As for Jerry, he had plenty of offensive spiritual power, almost as much as Dudley.  Not to mention that he was the best out of all of them when using the Mancer.

            The Mancer was a gift from the Shadow Goddess to help them.  It was sort of like a portable computer modified with magic.  In its normal form, it resembled a small laptop with the symbol of a silver winged dragon on its black casing.  However, it could also be turned into a silver tinted visor that went over the eyes.  The Mancer could detect demons (on a very wide range), measure how strong they were, give valuable information on demons and other things that dealt with magic, and could transport them places.  He had to admit that the experimental trip they took to Loch Ness in Scotland was fun and that the monster in the lake was fortunately a friendly demon that was just camera-shy.  Dudley considered the Mancer a blessing since he doubted he could do his job without that handy little device.  After he had told his friends about what was going on and they promised to help, he found four watch-like objects on the kitchen counter in the morning.  The 'MiniMancers' as Alyce had dubbed them could do what the regular Mancer did, except on a smaller range, acted as communicators, and told time.  They were highly useful.

            Cami murmured, "Around the corner."  Peeking around the deteriorating building, they saw a scene that they wished they hadn't.  

            The sidewalk was covered in furry bodies.  There had to be hundreds of rats scurrying around an even larger shape that had to be the demon.  It was a hunching gray figure standing on two legs, its forearms ending in sharp claws.  Dudley could see bright red eyes in its elongated head and its ears pricked every which way as it sniffed the air.  

            "Okay guys, I've got the info," said Jerry quietly.  He had switched the Mancer to its visor form.  "It's a rat demon and it's pretty close to our own level of power.  We have to avoid its teeth and claws because not only are they sharp, but they're disease-ridden.  Disgusting…oh and we have to be careful of the rats."  He gestured to the vermin with disgust.  "Mancer says that he can control them."

            Cami scowled, "It's descriptions like those that make me happy I can't see."

            "At the moment, I wish I can say the same," admitted Alyce.  Dudley noticed that she did look a little green.

            "Okay," whispered Dudley hastily.  "Jerry and I will take care of our 'little' friend there.  Can you guys cover us?"

            Alyce grimly nodded and Cami kept looking unseeingly at the demon behind her dark glasses.  It was with this plan that Dudley and Jerry went forward, the girls close behind in the shadows.  They were immediately met with a rolling red gaze.

            "So," it squeaked in a high voice.  "Humans have come to Gogingo?  Good, Gogingo and his friends are still hungry."  The rats around them seemed to grow in number.

            "I'm afraid you won't be eating us," announced Dudley.  "You are ordered to return to the demon world.  If you don't comply, then you will be exterminated.  Well?"

            Gogingo laughed.  "Gogingo leave?  Never!  Food here!  Never leave!  No human can stop demon!"

            Dudley could help but stifle a laugh as he heard Jerry mutter, "Why do they always saw no and that we can't beat them?"

            Alyce dryly replied, "Because they don't know any better."

            The rats attacked at once in a wave.  Alyce, with help from Cami, put up a shield around them to defend against it.  The rats were violently thrown back.  After they had landed, they then fled in obvious terror.  Alyce took down the shield once Cami verified that they had all left.  _How loyal_, Dudley couldn't help but sarcastically think.  Screaming in rage, Gogingo himself lunged at them.  

            Jerry managed to quickly create a spear of spirit energy and sent it at the giant rat.  Gogingo went flying towards the brick wall.  The demon flipped out of it though, panting and bleeding, but grinning happily.  Dudley didn't wait for it to attack again.  He formed a ball of spirit energy in his right hand and aimed.  Gogingo made a feral growl and launched himself at them again.  Dudley then threw the energy ob and with a flash of light and a high-pitched scream, Gogingo was gone.  _But why was he smiling?  It wasn't as if he were proving anything by not flying into that wall_. 

            "Guys, something's not-"

            But he was cut off by Cami's exclamation of, "Jerry, your leg!"

            Jerry gave her a confused look.  "What?"  He looked down at his legs.  "What's wrong with my legs?"

            "That demon got you somehow in your right leg.  I think it was a stray rat.  The energy around it seems – warped."

            Dudley swiftly asked, "Did you feel anything after Gogingo went flying?"

            "Just something like a sting-"

            "Sit," interrupted Alyce.

            "What?!"

            "Sit and let me heal you!  Cami's probably sensing a disease and we're not losing you."

            Dudley and Cami laughed as Jerry grumbled under Alyce's ministrations.  _I hope that we're doing well.  I don't want the Shadow Goddess to be disappointed._

            As they finished healing Jerry and teleported home via Mancer, none of them noticed the violet eyes watching them, not even Cami.

            He hoped he could sneak in without waking up his mother.  Sneaking out and returning home past three in the morning wouldn't look good.  The others had similar problems.  Jerry (the group's techie) and Alyce (the frustrated one) were both trying to set their MiniMancers to teleport them into their rooms.  Not progress thus far, though.

            Dudley doubted his mother would be angry if she knew what he was doing.  Actually, he knew that she would be quite proud of him.  But he didn't want to worry her.  With Harry's disappearance, wizards, making an income, and Vernon, he didn't want to add concern over if he was going to come home alive to that.  She had enough to deal with.

            _I wonder if the wizards found Harry yet.  I guess not or else we would have been told.  _He hoped his cousin was all right.  Dudley knew he was safe, but what if he hated them now.  _Well,_ he thought grimly, _it's not as if we ever did anything to discourage that.  He could still remember the palpable fury and power that radiated from Sirius Black when he arrived at number 4 Privet Drive.  Terrifying really._

            When Dudley looked back on that memory, he wondered why Black held back his power.  He was also curious why Severus Snape did the same.  When he concentrated hard enough on that recollection, he could dimly see their auras.  And the auras that belonged to those two weren't like normal wizards.  He was now able to sense wizards with his new spirit power, and many of their auras had purple tints in them.  Black's was redder than the scarlet robe he wore then, almost like fire.  It looked like a layer of thick bright violet was containing it.  Snape was the same, except his locked up power was a deep watery blue.  Why they suppressed this power was beyond him.

            _Hmm…speaking of wizards._  Gathered in his front yard were about twenty black-cloaked figures.  And Dudley doubted they came for breakfast.  Boldly striding into the orange halo of streetlight, he called out to them, "Can I help you gentlemen?  Because I don't appreciate you stepping all over my lawn."

            The wizards turned around and to Dudley's immense amusement, looked shocked.  But the apparent leader stepped forward towards him.  "So, you're Potter's cousin?  Why are you out so late?  I guess you don't know that dangerous things come out at night," he sneered.  One of the black robes stood over to the side, for some reason separating himself from the others.  But he was distracted when the leader started speaking again.

            "Tell us where Harry Potter is, muggle."

            "Even if I knew I wouldn't tell you."

            "Answer us, muggle.  Or did you not realize by now that we're wizards?"

            Dudley laughed heartily, a stark noise searing the otherwise still night air.  "How can I not?!  You're wearing robes, walking around as if you own the world, and are hiding behind masks!  You can only **be** wizards!"  

            The leader bristled visibly at that veiled insult.  "Well, too bad, muggle.  We were going to let you have a relatively painless death."

            Dudley just smirked back.  "Really?  How kind of you.  But somehow I don't think I'll be kicking the bucket tonight."  Acting quickly, he put up a spirit shield.  Which was pretty lucky for him.  Because as soon as he finished speaking, the wizards raised their wands and started to fire spells at him.  None of their attacks went through the blue-white dome of energy.  

            Several of the wizards dropped their wands in astonishment.  _I can see what the Shadow Goddess meant when she said they would be blinded.  If this is how they react to this magic, then they'd be too distracted to deal with other types, including demons.  Focusing on the structure of his shield, he compressed it into a ring of energy that circled around him.  Smiling pleasantly at the shell-shocked black-robed men, he let the ring explode around him with a sharp motion of his hands.  _

            When the dust cleared, nineteen wizards lay unconscious in grass that was turning from burnt yellow to fresh green.

            Dudley approached the separate wizard without fear.  "On which side are you really on **Professor** Snape?  This doesn't look like a study session that you decided to host at my home."

            "I don't think it matters to you, Mr. Dursley.  I assume that was a different kind of magic?"  Dudley noticed that curiosity tinged his usually neutral voice.

            "Yes."

            "Then keep it secret.  It would work to your advantage.  I advise you to play along with this farce.  Black!"

            Dudley turned around and saw a group of dark-blue robed wizards appearing with sharp pops in front of the house.  He then noticed the familiar scarlet wizard, whose red aura was barely being kept in by the violet.  Snape's aura as well was just kept in control.  Black was scowling in obvious dislike.  "Party, Snape?"

            "Funny, Black, funny.  Would you care to apprehend these men and actually keep them in custody?  We wouldn't want another escape, now would we?"

            Snape and Black continued to bicker, but Dudley's attention was drawn to the bushes by the door.  There was a small animal there with…a human aura?  He guessed whoever this was; it wasn't a person worth knowing.  His aura was a sickly yellow with pale lavender sparks, a weak wizard.  Moving past the arguing pair, he quickly grabbed the white rat.  It possessed a silver paw so it was obviously magical.  "Excuse me?  Mr. Black?  Professor Snape?"  He held up the rat when they looked towards him.

            It was at this that Sirius Black grinned in an evil way.  His red aura was now pulsating, straining against the deep purple.  "Well!  I didn't think I'd meet an old 'friend' here at this little get-together!"  Dudley deduced that whoever this rat was, he would soon be dead.

            "No," Night said disbelievingly.

            "Yes."

            "No."

            Zylle sighed loudly over her spaghetti.  They had been like this for about ten minutes, her mother and Hans watching with enjoyment.  Gran said with a smile, "You know he could pass as your son.  He acts just like you did when you were his age."

            "Quiet, mum, you're encouraging him.  Yes, you are and it's final."

            "You can't do this to me!"  It had to deal with his elemental training.  He was to have other teachers help him learn to channel earth and water.  Zylle was already covering wind with her Windcaller Jin technique and Gran was tutoring him in fire in preparation in learning the Hellfire Inferno, but both were not very strong in the remaining two elements.  Hans was to help him with earth.  Night had no problem with this.  Hans would certainly make it fun and he was wondering what his Gaia Kybele technique could do.  Gran had spoken of it highly.  But it was his teacher for the water element that worried him.

            "Nuitari Thomas Hawking, you are going to be tutored in the water element by Lavinia Coulter.  No discussion, young man."  When Zylle spoke in that tone, Night knew it was hopeless.  But he didn't bother to hold back his groan.

            Night knew that Professor Coulter would be nothing short of a terror.  You could just tell by looking at her that she was tough.  He and Bran met Mirabelle Diamante just the other day on Sky Lane and heard quite the tale.  Mirabelle had Professor Coulter just last term.  According to her, she graded on MUCH higher standards than other teachers and even the state.  She demanded nothing short of perfection.  She favored those with ambition and determination, but the perks were mixed blessings.  Professor Coulter did treat you with more respect than the normal student, but she worked you harder.  Detentions were spoken of with dread.  Also, if you weren't paying attention, then she'd encase your feet in extremely cold ice that wouldn't melt unless she undid the magic.  

            At least he had a day of hanging out with Bran tomorrow.  Over the past few days, they had become inseparable.  Bran was very composed and reserved, with a funny sarcastic nature.  He had another friend, a girl named Triana, who he was to meet tomorrow.  Gran and Zylle were happy that he had found a friend.  They liked the redhead and had known him for a long time.

Gran had said when he told them over his late dinner, "Bran Ravencroft?  Nice boy, if on the bookish side.  But it's to be expected considering that Conrad was the same way."  Gran remembered Bran's grandfather very well since he was the Green Dragon during the Phantom Wars.  "It was a real pity that he moved to Italy.  Eloped with a witch by the name of Lara.  I forgot her last name, but she had quite the mane of red hair.  The older members of the family were completely against her marriage to a 'muggle' and Conrad doesn't take insult lightly.  He insulted them back and those old crones forbid the marriage from taking place.  So they left on their own."  There they had started a large family, but only one son, Anthony (Bran's father), came back to the clan.  "The Ravencrofts have been a part of the Arashi-Tenku for centuries.  There almost as old as our family, you know."

            He smiled evilly as he thought about what they were planning to do.  _Ahh…sweet revenge…_

            Zylle interrupted his musings.  "So, you're smiling because you **want** her to teach you two techniques?  I thought you didn't want her to tutor you at all, but here you are agreeing to see her at least two hours every Tuesday and Thursday!  I'm happy you're being so mature about this."

            "What?!"  _I didn't agree to anything!  "No!  Wait!  Zylle!  Remember, you're upset with me!  I'm immature and rebellious!"_

            Zylle and the other adults at the table just laughed at his indignation.  

            Pheta had a hard day.  She walked up the bright marble steps of her palace, lurid pink flowers growing in vines all over the structure.  Elysium was considered to be the most beautiful of all the realms excepting Heaven and she did nothing do try to change that widely held opinion.  

            She had to be all nice and sunny to the other gods.  Lying and putting on a good face took a lot of work.  She handed out blessings to those who worshipped her.  Pheta would never admit that the favors she handed out to her worshippers were weak and useless, she knew it was so.  But the other gods and the mortals themselves felt that she was granting large and generous boons.  It was amazing what one could do when they acted a certain way.  And of course, she slandered the dark gods, especially Melania.

            Melania.  She'd have her revenge on the dark goddess soon enough.  What she did long ago while they were both present in the mortal realm was unforgivable.  They didn't get along then, but after **that**, it was war.  _He loved me and she took him away!_  But there was no point in brooding over it now.  Her plan for payback was nearly perfect.  And she was going to use Tartarus itself to do all the work.  Once those souls were released, then everything would be dead.  Naturally, she would deflect all the blame onto the dark gods.  With the backing of the other light gods, Pheta would finally be rid of those annoying deities.

            Only two x-factors remained:  the last two mortal descendants of Melania.  She had carefully taken out all the others through either careful manipulation of their lives to ensure them only pain and death or her own personal favorite:  insanity.  But this time around, Melania made sure that she wouldn't get her hands on those two.

            She almost had Tom Riddle.  Unfortunately, some reaper had reported what was happening to him and she came immediately to his aid.  The dark goddess managed to save the soul, but the body was won over by that weakling hell-demon.  Even if she was managing to throw mud on the line of Melania by ordering that demon to start a killing massacre, she still hadn't won.  Pheta could not claim victory if she had not destroyed his soul.  And she had worked very hard at ruining that boy's life.  She made sure that Calandra Raye Silver-Riddle had died after childbirth from complications (that was hard a hard task for the heritage that Calandra inherited from Melania was very strong).  She influenced Thomas Riddle to abandon both his wife and child after finding out that they were of magical blood.  The state placed young Tom in a particular awful orphanage whose owner was abusive.  Pheta made Hogwarts supply him with plenty of trouble.  And Voldemort made certain that he was in constant pain.  And it all went to waste with one spell from Melania.

            Then there was Harry Potter.  There was also a great deal of effort that resulted in nothing.  Voldemort killing the boy's parents accomplished two things:  making his life harder and taking out James Potter.  Then she had to hide the truth about the Secret-Keeper and Sirius Black so that he wouldn't go to his beloved godfather.  She didn't have to do much work with the werewolf since people are naturally prejudiced.  Then making sure that Dumbledore would take him to the Dursleys.  Finally Hogwarts, where he would encounter nothing but danger in the form of ridicule, fame, and strategic events placed by her.  The kid certainly had the luck of a dark god though:  he survived every encounter that she had put in his way.  After the Third Task, she was certain he would be dead by the hand of that worthless Vernon Dursley.  But no, Melania just had to intervene and rescue him.  He was still alive and well.  She couldn't get at him either, not even in dreams.  Melania had gone to great lengths to hide and protect him from her.  No one could hide forever though, so she would wait.  

            Smiling to herself, she walked into her pure white rooms.

            Except they weren't white.

            Everywhere she looked, there were dark colors.  Black, dark blue, deep red, shady greens, and murky browns:  all the colors that she hated.  There was only one article of white in the room and that was a piece of paper lying on a once honey-colored, but now ebony, table.

Pheta!  How are you?!  I hope you don't mind, but I dropped in for a bit and found you weren't there.  So I made myself comfortable.  You like?  

_            With extreme amusement, Thanatos._

            Birds flew out of the trees at the sound of a woman screaming in rage.  "THANATOS!"

***

Thanks for reading and reviewing!  Sorry about the slow update.  I'm going to try to update weekly now.  I won't bore you with horror stories about school.

Here's the summary.  We saw how Dudley and his friends are dealing with the demon situation with the help of their spirit energy and Mancer.  The owner of the violet eyes will be revealed soon.  Also, Dudley took out the death eaters at his home and later caught Pettigrew spying on Snape.  Harry just found out who is training him in the earth and water elements.  Can you just feel his excitement?  And lastly, we enter the mind of Pheta and her reaction to Thanatos' redecorating.

Yes, I'm trying to cut down on author's notes.  I'm also going to try to condense my reviewer's responses. Even I have to admit they've gotten a bit long.  Sometimes they span over two pages.  I sort of feel like I'm cheating you since the chapter looks longer than it really is.

Next chapter should include:  Harry, Bran, the new girl Triana, pranks, the infamous Calvin Springfield, and training with both Hans and Lavinia.  Let's hope I get it out on time.

-Raven Dragonclaw

_Reviewers:_

**Angelis, B0B, BUSHIDO, chaser1, DaughterofDeath, Jordan, OrionTheHunter, Prd2bAmerican18, storyteller3, Zaz:  **Thanks for your compliments!  I'll try to update soon.

**Arsenal:  **Thanks for the tip.  Yes, Sekhmet is one of the good ones, but she didn't bother going to the deity council.  The same goes for Helios.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Artemis MoonClaw:  **No, Bill isn't a descendant of a god or goddess.  However, Sekhmet does like and favor him a lot, so he has a bit of an advantage over normal people.  We see Harry again next chapter.  I appreciate the review!

**Blank_Eyes:  **Harry won't be dying in my story.  There would be no plot without him.  As for my rotations with my characters, it is hard to keep track of, but they are fun to write.  Pertaining to your view on my clues:  yes, I know they just tend to be off-hand statements, but that's sort of how life is.  Everything is right before you, it's just you need to piece them together.  Pheta should realize that they would die eventually, but she wants to hurt Melania by making their lives miserable.  I hope that cleared things up.  Thanks for the review!

**Caroline Hal:  **Kardis will be elaborated on more in later chapters.  Thanks for reviewing!

**CatatonicReaction:  **I just felt like including it, probably because it sounded better to my ears.  I'm happy you like how complex the storyline is.  Thanks for the review!****

**Crystal, Lily, James, and Sirius:  **Really?  You guys aren't THAT bad?  Maybe, I should ask Snape for his opinion of you guys.  *laughing* You're right, I will miss you guys.  I hope you have fun though.  We'll find out what happens to Harry next chapter.  Thanks for reviewing!

**Dumbledore:  **Actually, I chose Hans' and Franz' names at random and I never made that connection!  Thanks for pointing it out.  I will go more into depth with Kardis soon and due to reader demand, I'm going to try to put in a bit of Harry every chapter.  Thanks for the review!

**Fantasyangel Writer:  **You like Sekhmet?  Mysterious, isn't she?  And she certainly has her own ideas in mind.  I know more than you Egyptian-mythology obsessed friend?  I guess that's a compliment.  It is hard to write all the different point of views, but it's fun at the same time.  I'm glad you still like this story!

**Fantasydima:**  I'm sorry if I confused you.  This is an AU of Harry's fifth year summer.  I'm just using some of the new canon in OotP since it goes into more detail about certain characters that we really don't know about.  I hoped that helped you.  Thanks for reading!

**g0ldensnidget, a.k.a. snitch:  **I forgot you?  I'm so sorry about that!  Thanks for being understanding though.  I'm glad you still like this story!

**Kalorna Enera:  **Thanatos is quite the character.  I hope you liked what he did to Pheta there, as she is sort of picky about her palace's color scheme.  The inscriptions are pretty vague, but they'll be made clear in time.  Harry is in next chapter!  I hope you like it!

**Kitta Baby:  **Glad you liked the mysterious feel.  I was going for that.  Thanks for reviewing!

**Korinna Myorin:  **Thanks for the encouragement.  We see what Harry's up to next chapter.  I hope you like it!

**leggo-my-legolas:  **I'm happy you like my fanfics and thanks for the compliment.  Sekhmet is there to show the fact that the gods do have certain favorites and in Sekhmet's case, it's Bill.  Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them came out as a separate book to fund an organization in England I believe.  I do own it though as well as Quidditch Throughout the Ages.  August 14?!  And here I am complaining…

**Liedral:  **I'm glad you like Percy's howlers.  It would be funny to see what his reaction would be like.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Limar:  **I'm trying to shorten the author's notes and reviews.  I'm not sure what to do with Ron yet, but I'll think of something.  After all, he just can't only be 'Harry's friend'.  He has to have some abilities of his own as well.  I appreciate the review!

**Noctem:  **Sorry about the long update!  But I hope you like this chapter.

**Porphyrophobic Grape:  **Kardis' cat form does have ties to Harry.  But as Bill was wondering what was going on most of the time, he didn't make that connection.  Good call.  Thanks for the review!

**purplefluffychainsaw:  **Glad you liked Percy's howlers and that you enjoyed the cat.  I've never actually heard any Nirvana songs, but I'm happy to clarify why I chose that name for a light realm for you.  I hope you continue reading this!

**Quatre Winner:  **I shudder to think about what havoc Thanatos and Duo would do if they worked together.  You're both insane, but in a fun way.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Rachel A. Prongs:  **No, Draco isn't going to lead the Hogwarts rebellion, it's actually someone even more unexpected.  I'm trying to get a bit of Harry in every chapter now, since he's obviously a popular person.  Keep thinking on that thread.  Thanks for the review!

**Rogue1615:  **Sorry for the cliffhanger, but it was the perfect place to leave off.  We'll get back to Bill and the staff shortly.  We get more Harry training next chapter.  There are a lot of possibilities, aren't there?  That's sort of what makes this fun.  You should read a story by Brace42.  Its main character is a muggle cop who does kick Voldemort's ass at some points.  It's a great story.  I don't mind the rambling.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**ruby_lake24:  **You have the views of those two perfectly!  That's exactly how I wanted to portray them.  I haven't really decided if Harry would keep his new names after he got his memory back.  Thanks for pointing that out.  We all feel sorry for Sirius, but he'll be less angsty when Harry is found again.  Long time coming though.  Yes, Tom and Harry are descendants of a deity, more accurately, Melania.  I actually got the inspiration for Bran's name from Susan Cooper's series.  Grey Tower is a town in itself, right outside of London.  Unlike Diagon Alley, the residents don't isolate themselves.  Thanks for the review!

**Savi2070:  **A fellow anime fan?  Great to hear!  Tom will be connected to Harry's return to wizarding magic and that will come soon.  He has a lot of studying to do.  I hope this was long enough for you!  Thanks and please review again!

**SiRiUsLy ObSeSsEd1:  **Thanks!  Rin is the goddess of magic and she definitely did not want Kardis found.  We get a lot of Harry next chapter and his school will start in October.  

**Tasidia:  **I'm happy you liked the story.  We'll see what Harry will do when the time comes.  And even if Harry doesn't become the Black Dragon, he'll still get a dragon tattoo.  I can just imagine Sirius' face when he sees that.  I appreciate the review1

**Vicious Lily:  **Bran pretty reserved, but you don't want to anger him.  It's not pretty.  I'm happy you liked Percy's Howlers.  I bet he would try to hide from his colleagues for the rest of the day after that.  I'll think about what you said about Sirius and Zylle.  Stella's reaction will be funny when we get to it.  I agree that OotP!Harry was scary and that J.K. should not have just let him go off on a fuse like that.  I imagined that if Harry were angry, he wouldn't be screaming it out like that.  Hans' wife doesn't have anything do with his knowledge of dark curses, but good try.  We'll find out what happened to her next chapter.  Thank for the review!

**WolfMoon:  **Peter was one of those Death Eaters freed by Pheta.  Raistlin to Melania in Chapter 15: The Hall of Kings reported it.  As for Mirage Searle, you're on the right track.  I hope to talk to you soon!

**Wytil:  **That is confusing!  I've always hated Greek mythology on the point of Hecate.  They always either say that she's Artemis or Selene or they dub her as a separate goddess.  The same.  I can see why you do that.  Thanks for the review!

**Zephyris:  **I suppose you mean Sekhmet?  If that is the case, then no, she isn't.  Sekhmet was just watching out for Bill's well being.  But Kardis will be an important plot element.  Thanks for reviewing!


	20. A Very Busy Day

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Twenty:  A Very Busy Day

            Nuitari or "Night" Hawking was sleepily getting dressed for the day in his room before the unexpected happened. __

            "Hey!  Hello!"

            His fingers slipped on the second-to-last button of his red button-up shirt and he whirled around in alarm.  Floating in the middle of his room was a large, circular window.  But instead of reflecting cool grays and vivid greens, it showed something – or rather, someone – else.  The person had messy mixed dark-brown and black hair with deep arresting blue eyes.  He was waving cheerfully at him.

            "Tom?!"  _Okay.  Zylle worked me way too hard last night.  I am now seeing things._

            "Yep!"  Tom's tenor voice still carried that strange unearthly cadence.  He was surprisingly cheerful.  "I managed to find a way to communicate to you!"

            "Umm…how?"

            "Our so-called 'uncle' helped us."

            "Uncle?"  There it was.  That piercing feeling of dread and fear washed over him.  Vaguely, he could hear shouting in the back of his mind, but it sounded like it came from a far away radio with a lot of static.  

            "Are you alright?"  Tom's face was etched with concern now.

            "Huh?  Oh!  I spaced out there."

            "I gathered that.  So, how are things?"

            Night launched into a summary of what had happened over the past few weeks since his awakening.  He had gone into especial detail about Zylle, Gran, Bran, and his new home.  "It's wonderful here!  I don't think I ever want to leave!"

            He thought he saw a flash of pain and regret pass Tom's face, but it passed quickly.  Now he was unsure whether it had even happened.  Now, Tom looked thoughtful.  "This Zylle…is she good-looking?"

            "Tom!"

            "What?  I am twenty-five, after all!"

            "You're in your seventies," responded Night dryly.

            "Twenty-five," said Tom firmly.  "Without a body, but in my prime nevertheless."

            "Who's this 'uncle' you talked about earlier?"

            "Ah.  He demands that we call him 'Uncle Nat'.  I have no idea why.  His name's Thanatos and he's the Lady's brother.  Not to mention, a complete nutcase."

            "The Lady's brother is insane?"

            "In a good way.  The Lady herself just makes a face and calls him 'extremely juvenile and mischievous'."

            "When you said the Lady had a brother, I figured he would be like her."

            "He got a seal to get high on crack, if it helps you judge his personality.  But I must go to the two points that I really need to discuss."

            "Okay.  I have been warned and am now prepared to take whatever bombshell you plan to mercilessly throw on me and my life."

            Tom sarcastically replied, "Good, it makes things much easier when you accept it.  First off, you haven't been practicing your wizarding magic, have you?"

            "How can I?  I don't have a wand or any books."

            Tom smirked.  "That's where I come in."

            "Tom?  No offense, but you don't look like the teacher-type to me."

            "I can still try!  And I've tutored plenty of people in my Hogwarts days.  If I could do that while having a demon driving me insane, then I can do this.  In a few days, you'll be getting a package from an anonymous sender."  Tom's evil grin grew wider.  "I wonder what that old demon will do once he finds my old wand is gone."

            "You're giving me **your** wand? But Tom-"

            "No but's.  It will work for you so don't worry about that.  Your old wand if I recall was strikingly similar to mine.  There will also be a present in there that I think you'd like."

            "Tom, you didn't have to-"

            The older man brought up his hand to silence him.  "Well, I did.  Besides, I owe you a birthday present."  Night now felt guilty.  On his forms, he and Zylle had put down his birthday as July 31st, since that was the day that he woke up.  It was the best they could come up with.  "Now this mirror.  You can use it to communicate me.  Just say the password – Dark Sovereign – and I'm there."  Night chuckled as Tom muttered, "Not like I **can** be anywhere else…"

            "Who chose the password?"

            "The Lady's aunt."

            "How many relatives does she have?!"

            "A LOT.  She has a ton of brothers and sisters, but she doesn't keep in contact with them all that much.  Her Aunt Destiny is a strange one though.  She didn't explain why that was it."

            "Can it be smaller?"  The large mirror looked quite inconvenient.  "And can it be used as a regular mirror?"

            "Yes, to both.  Why?"  Tom's deep blue eyes glinted teasingly.  "Ah.  So, who's the lucky girl you're trying to impress?"

            Now Night was confused.  "Girl? What – oh."  His face flushed scarlet.  "I'm not trying to impress a girl!"

            "Well, you should be.  Take advantage of youth!"  Then, Tom's handsome features took on an apprehensive expression.  "You already had _the talk_, right?  I don't need to do it, do I?"

            "Ready, boy?"

            "Hans, why are you wearing a saucepan on your head?"

            Yes, Hans was wearing a saucepan on his head.  They were standing in the spacious backyard of Number 12 Zephyrus Court, Hans' home.  Hans had a large cleared spot in the middle of the lot, while a number of vibrant plants flourished around the edges.  Night had noticed that the chocolate trees were doing particularly well.  Both of them stood in this cleared spot.  Night wore regular clothing, while Hans wore his regular clothing:  his lime green bathrobe and slippers, and sweats.  The saucepan was new.

            "Best be prepared."  He also gestured to the pile of sandbags piled in a fort-like manner behind him.  "We're starting with earth element attacks first.  No weapon summoning."  The elderly man laughed at Night's disappointed face.  "I'll give you about two and a half weeks before doing that.  And it should be easy since Zylle and Sarah will be teaching the basics of it with wind and fire probably next week."

            "Really?"  Night's frown turned into a large smile at the thought of learning weapon summoning.  He had tried it on his own, imitating Zylle's movements, but nothing had yet happened.  He guessed that there was some sort of mindset to form that amazing blade.

            "You know about element tapping, so I'll spare you the lecture."  Hans winked.  "Let's get this done so you can see your friends before heading over to Vinny Coulter's.  You'll need the good mood.  We'll begin with one of the most difficult of the attacks an earth elemental in the Gaia Kybele style could use, so that everything afterward would be easy."

            Night raised an eyebrow.  _This is different approach.  _Zylle and Gran started with the easier techniques and worked up to the hard stuff.  

            "Fissure," Hans explained, "is one of the hardest techniques for any earth master, not just in the Gaia Kybele style, to learn.  This is because an earth elemental's base instinct is not to destroy but to maintain a balance, be in control, and to create.  With 'fissure', you are breaking the earth.  The earth will react back to keep a balance.  That is the main force of fissure:  the combination of your power and the earth's following destructive response focused at a target."  Hans nodded with pride.  "It's a powerful attack and it won me the rank of Blue Dragon back in the old wars…"

            Hans suddenly broke off his reminiscing to dive behind the sandbags.  The top of his saucepan helmet was barely visible.  "Break the earth and be sure to combine your energy with it in the attack!  Break the pots over there!"  Following Hans' gesture, she found standing on the ground an array of beautiful clayware about ten feet away.

            "I can't destroy those!"

            "Yes and you better!  Or I'll tell your mother!"

            Night started when Hans referred to Zylle as his mother.  _Well, she is legally I guess. _ It was still odd to hear, though.  Even with all the remarks from passerby that he could pass as her son.

            _Okay.  I have to break the earth.  _Tapping into earth, he concentrated on his task.  He brought both his hands up in front of him and focused on making the earth crack.  Night opened his eyes when he heard a slight crumbling beneath his feet.  A large crack was in the earth, starting at his feet and extending in a relatively straight line about seven feet.

            "Good start!  Try again!"

            _Right.  The pots.  I have to make it there.  Work with me, earth!_  Closing his eyes and doing what he had done before again, he concentrated into making energy travel in a large crack to break the pots.  He didn't notice the ground shaking beneath his feet.  All he was focused on was breaking the earth and the pots.  

            CRACK!  That crack was followed by the sounds of shattering pottery in succession.  When he opened his eyes, he saw the large crack, about two feet why and the broken pottery shards.

            Hans whooped in victory from behind his sandbags.  "Wonderful!  You did it!"  With a swift motion of his hand, the crack disappeared and it was as it was before.  Another wave brought the pottery back.  "Do it again!  Repetition is the best form of practice!"

            He and Bran were sitting at the tree they had met at in Aiken-Quincy Park, waiting for Bran's friend.  They had become close friends during the past few days.  Bran's family eagerly welcomed him into their fold.  The redheaded family was very open and fun loving.  Even the reserved Bran jumped into the family activities that they enjoyed having with fervor.  He was told later that it was from their Italian roots that they valued family so much.  Not to mention Mariana Ravencroft made incredible lasagna.  They shared similar interests and in Bran, Night found a fellow mischievous and cunning mind.  At the moment, they were discussing various ways to get back at the annoying git known as Simeon Bradley.

            "No, that won't work!  We need a water elemental for that!"

            "I'm going for a bit of training in the water element soon, so maybe that will help."

            "With who?"

            "Professor Coulter."  To him, she was Professor Coulter, and only Professor Coulter.  She wasn't even just 'Coulter'.  **Professor** Coulter.  

            The redhead winced.  "I feel bad for you."

            "Tell me about it.  I wrote a will just last night."

            "Did I get anything?"

            Night laughed and jokingly said, "Now why would I give anything to you?!"

            Keeping in with the joke, Bran said mock-seriously, "Fine!  This is what I get for lending you money, putting up with you in my house, and you stealing away all good candidates for a girlfriend.  Thanks a lot!"

            Both of them broke down into hysterics.  But a female voice interrupted them.  "Bran Ravencroft, laughing?  I never thought I'd live to see the day!"

            A relatively pretty girl stood over them.  Shining wavy brown hair cascaded down the length of her back and curious but warm brown eyes looked down on them.  She appeared to be short, even shorter than Night was, and that was saying something.  _But I have grown a bit over the past few weeks_, he admitted to himself.  Her expressive mouth was twitching in suppressed laughter.  She wore a colorful flowered t-shirt with a denim skirt and sneakers.  Behind her ear was a red rose.  

            The one thing that Night knew instinctively about her was that she was an earth elemental.  Lately, he had been becoming more aware of who possessed what element.  He did learn to aura-read, but he found that he really didn't need to.  Elementals seemed to have characteristics that resembled their elements so much that it was obvious.  With his grandmother and Bran, the fire showed in their determination and curiosity.  Hans and Mirabelle, like this girl, had the presence of security and a kind nature.  He hadn't met that many water elementals, but he noticed that like Professor Coulter, they were usually very insightful and calm.  With wind elementals, he noticed that they had a sort of aura of intelligence and adaptability.  He also noticed that wind elementals seemed to move a certain way.  Zylle showed it more than others.

            Standing up and brushing himself off, Bran said to her, "C'mon, you're not going to just stand there and rag on me!"

            "I don't see why I can't."

            Night laughed and stood up himself.  "Neither can I.  It'd be fun!"

            The girl smiled beatifically at him.  "I like him already," she said to the fire elemental.  Extending her hand, she said.  "I'm Triana Smythe, earth elemental of the Arashi-Tenku.  But just call me 'Trina'."

            Night gratefully took it.  "Nuitari Hawking, wind elemental of the Arashi-Tenku.  And you may just call me 'Night'."

            Trina's eyes widened.  "Hawking?  You're a Hawking?"

            Bran interrupted dryly, "As hard as it is to believe, it's true.  Didn't you hear?"

            "No."

            "I'm adopted," Night explained.  "I was pretty banged up and somehow ended up here.  Zylle found me and took me to the hospital.  After a few days, I woke up and I couldn't remember a thing.  Dr. An – I mean Dr. Diamante found that I had elemental ability, so Zylle legally adopted me."

            Trina nodded and asked, "No memory at all?"

            "Only a big black dog.  And that doesn't really help much."

            "True…"

            "You sure you hadn't heard?"  Bran persisted, "You're dad's the Green Dragon!"

            "We've been out of the country!  It's hard to get news in Hawaii," Trina said with a tinge of annoyance in her voice.  "My dad, Jonathan Smythe, is an artist," Trina clarified when she saw Night's confusion.  "He's world-famous so he has to go on several tours.  He took me along to his exhibition in Hawaii."

            "Wow, that must have been awesome."

            "It was!  I actually got to walk on an active volcano! Now…what were you two talking about when I came?  It sounded good."

            Bran grinned and pointed at Night.  "His will.  He has left me nothing after all that I've done for him."

            "Can't blame him."

            "Hey!"

            Night made his face as formal as possible.  "Well, I now have decided to let Trina here have my very rare bromeliad that I've been trying to grow."

            "Yes!"  Then Trina stopped.  "Wait.  Didn't you say you're a wind elemental?"

            "I am, but I can use all elements know."  Embarrassed at her shocked look, he said, "Now I can.  Before it was hard because of my blocks on water and earth."

            Trina raised an eyebrow and next said, "Well, warn me if you're entering the tournament then.  I'll try to avoid you then!"  She lightened the statement with a smile.

            Bran looked at her with disbelief.  "Of course he's going to be in the tournament!  He's a Hawking!  The only Hawking leader that we have ever had was Sarah, and she was married to one!  It would detrimental to our clan **not** to have a Hawking leader."

            "Define 'detrimental', Bran.  Some of us don't eat the dictionary."

            Night broke in with, "It means harmful and damaging, Trina."

            "Oh no!  Don't tell me I'm stuck with **another** intellectual!"  She groaned.  "I feel inferior in the presence of your genius."  The three of them then laughed at that.  Giggling while speaking, she asked, "So why is Night dead here?"

            "I'm taking lessons from Professor Coulter."

            She immediately sobered.  "What?!"

            "Me.  Professor Coulter.  Lessons."

            "You're dead."

            "I know.  And I have to be there exactly at three."

            Bran looked at his watch and paled.  Which was an accomplishment considering his pale skin.  "Umm…Night?"

            "Yeah?"

            "It's 3:10."

            "Oh."  Then, the force of this hit him.  "Crap!  I'm late!"  Taking off down the path, he yelled back, "I'll see you guys soon!"

            Triana muttered, "That's if he returns alive."

            "He won't," Bran said seriously.  "He's **late** to a lesson **with Professor Coulter**.  No one has yet to come back alive from a double-hit like that."

            He skidded to the front of 6 Boreas Street.  It was a street with respectable houses and flowers.  But it was the creativity that went into the houses that amazed him.  Plants of all sorts piled over intricately designed metal fences and when the wind blew from the north, wind chimes filled the air with delicate twinkling.  6 Boreas had glass-like looking pools in its front and its wind chime was made out of icicles.  It was of solid brick and slate, with neat gardens and windows with blue fabric curtains.  No question.  This was Professor Coulter's home.  He pressed the doorbell and heard its ring echo in the house.  Then he heard the click of high-heels.  The white door opened.  

            Towering above him was the woman herself.  Her shoulder-length chestnut hair was as impeccably styled as always and her ice blue eyes behind their spectacles pierced right through him.  He only knew three other people who could do that:  the Lady, Tom, and at times, Zylle.  She wore a Chinese-inspired blue top with black slacks.  And of course she had the high-heels:  this time the same blue as her shirt.  Her arms were bare, excepting a few silver bangles.  Night could see clearly the majestic dragon of the Arashi-Tenku her left arm, perched above the eye mark that was individual from person to person.  "You're late.  By…13 minutes."

            _13?  I made good time!  I thought it would at least take me another 8 minutes to get here_.  "Yes, Professor," he said respectfully.  "I'm sorry about that."

            "I'll let this go since you apparently got lost, being new here," she said.  "But I expect you on time for our next lesson, Night."

            He took the escape without hesitation.  "Yes, Professor.  Thank you."

            "Come in."  She moved out of the doorway and into the house.  He followed her obediently and the door closed behind him.  

            He asked Professor Coulter, "Is the house like Number 14?"

            "Yes, but not as advanced.  The older the house is the more conscious it becomes.  It's believed to be because of the magic radiated from its inhabitants and from everyone else who lives in Grey Tower.  Number 14 is particularly advanced since it is one of the oldest homes here.  Number 6 is about half as old."  Night then got the feeling of pride, but not from the professor.  It was from the house, actually.  "As you can tell," she said smiling.  "It's quite proud of itself."

            The interior of Number 6 had a blue and white scheme that prevailed around the house, making it feel icy.  The furniture was obviously antique and there did not seem to be anything of the modern style around.  He assumed she disliked it.  Noticing a few photographs on the wall, he saw what was an evidently younger Lavinia Coulter.  He noted that she seemed to be very determined in every picture, her chin held high.  Night nearly laughed when he saw one of the later pictures.  She was obviously fifteen or sixteen and wearing fighting gear.  But the left arm was torn off, revealing the dragon, and she was smiling fiercely.  Next to her, was a girl with red hair and the red dragon – Mirai – and a girl with messy dark-hair that just had to be Zylle.  _Yes, there it is: the Black Dragon mark of the leader._  Zylle had not shown him it yet, but Gran had shown hers.  On the surprisingly still smooth skin of his grandmother showed him the Black Dragon.  It was located on her right, though.  Since she had switched clans, she already had her clan's mark on her left arm.  Gran showed him that one too:  the red panther.  Behind them all was an older boy that looked a lot like Trina.  Obviously, he was her father:  Jonathan Smythe, the Green Dragon.  This was obviously a picture taken right after the tournament.

            Night was led into the predominantly blue and green kitchen.  It was amazingly modern, much like the homes of other elemental houses.  However, jars upon jars of potions ingredients lined the walls here.  Professor Coulter noticed his curiosity.  "I keep some of my potions ingredients here.  Usually the more common and more widely used ones.  My main stores are in my basement.  It's much cooler and more circulated there.  Sit."

            He followed her gesture to sit at the table.  To his surprise, she put in front of him and herself two empty glasses.  Night looked up questioningly at her.  

            "We are made up mostly of water, correct?"

            "Yes."

            "This is what makes tapping of the water element one of the easiest out of all the elements.  Since our being has so much of it, it isn't that hard to summon up.  It's the direct using of the element that is difficult."

            "Wouldn't it be easy as well since it was easily summoned?"

            "Unfortunately, this isn't so.  In order to use water effectively, you must have a calm and serene state of mind.  Water is fluid and composed.  Very rarely is water ever out of control."

            "What about storms and rapids?"  He explained further.  "Water is wild then."

            "But that is different.  In storms, the wind fights against the water to make that happen.  And in river rapids, the earth influences the rivers path to make it go faster.  Water does not do this.  It just goes with the flow.  It is quite different from wind and fire, two elements that embrace chaos and speed.  Did Zylle ever tell you about the elemental centers?"

            "Elemental centers?"  He didn't recall her ever saying anything like that.  "No, I don't think so."

            Professor Coulter sighed.  "Typical Zylle.  There is a philosophy that the elements are connected to certain parts of the body.  They are:  Earth through the physical body, water through the heart (emotions, so to speak), wind through the mind, and fire from the soul.  Personally, I think it is all rubbish."  She scowled in distaste.  "I agree completely with Anastasius Diamante when it comes to that.  The magic is much more personality based."

            Night nodded in understanding.  That was what he noticed.  That was how he knew what element a person was before actually meeting them.  

            "Let's get back to the subject at hand.  I'm just going to test you first.  Then I'll have an idea on where to go with you."  Motioning to the glass, she commanded, "Fill the class with water."

            "What?! I can't do that!"

            "I don't see how you can't.  You can make fire in your hand, right?  Also wind?"

            "Well, yes…"

            "Water is no different.  Concentrate on the element.  Remember that you yourself are water.  And then just let it flow out of your hand."

            She put her hand over her glass.  As he watched, he saw her palm fill with crystal clear water.  It overflowed out of her hand and into the glass, filling it up.  Night noticed with a bit of amusement that the water was fogging of the glass with its chill.  At the end of half a minute, the glass was filled to the top with icy cold clear water.  Professor Coulter fixed him with her blue glare.  "You do the same.  And I expect at least three-fourths of it full."

            Getting the message, he held his hand over the glass as well.  Like she said, it was easy to tap into the water element.  But he couldn't manage to let it out like she did.  _Water…our bodies are mostly water…calm and focus…argh!_  Yes.  He was frustrated.  _Calm, serene…boring…Lethe!  _Maybe that was it.  The land of Lethe was filled with water from its rivers to Annuvin to the great Ocean of Eternity.  It was perpetually calm and serene, just like water.  He had to force down a laugh.  _Tom definitely isn't a water elemental._  As he thought about the realm of oblivion, a pool of water formed in his hand.  But it did not overflow like Professor Coulter's had:  it instead trickled down at an annoyingly slow rate.  _Hurry up!_  The water got even slower.  _Okay…be calm…need new strategy…Lethe worked, what next?  _Then his mind fell on the Lady.  _Perfect!  I always feel calm and secure when I'm around her.  _He summoned up his last memory of her.  The dark hair, the blue eyes, and the smile that made him feel like everything was all right in the world.  

            "Mr. Hawking, I believe you can desist now."

            He opened the eyes he hadn't realized he closed.  His glass was full with water.  Night looked up at the professor and to his amazement, she was smiling.  But he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.  Maybe it was something in her eyes.  She looked like she was going to give him tough times.

            "Well, you have exceeded my expectations of you.  Therefore, I will work you harder than I had planned."  Professor Coulter smiled even wider.  "I'm going to have fun."

            Night suppressed the urge to groan.

            Night wasn't prepared to have someone come straight up to him and start talking to him.  He was especially not expecting an older man whom he didn't know.  

            Night didn't like him.  He could tell that he was dealing with a water elemental, but he did not exude the control and reserved feeling he usually got from water elementals.  Night was reminded of the fast-moving river that he had spoken about with Professor Coulter.  But he really disliked him at first sight.

            He wore an expensive dark-blue suit with white shirt and tie.  Blue-tinted sunglasses hid his eyes from the afternoon sunset.  He leant against the picket fence of 19 Viento Street as if he owned the town.  He had perfectly groomed blond hair that was the very anti-thesis of Night's own black hair.  He had the kind of aura of someone who always got what he wanted.  Night didn't know what he disliked about him, but there was something that was there.

            "Hello.  Are you Nuitari Hawking, boy?"  The man had said this kindly while exposing perfect pearl white teeth in a smile.  He didn't fall for it.  Night wanted to get away from him.  Or hit him.  Mostly he felt the urge to hit him, but he wanted to get away since he didn't want to embarrass Zylle.

            "Yes.  And you are?"

            "David Crowley, Black Chimera of the Rekka-Ki."

            Oh.  So this was David Crowley.  Gran hated this guy.  A lot.  Night could tell since she would mutter angrily and more often than not would make something explode.

            "Yes," Night asked coolly.  "What do you want?" 

            "You are Zylle's new son, correct?  With exceptional abilities?"  Crowley said the word 'son' with an insulting tone in his perfect voice.  

            "Yes, you are correct.  I am her son," Night responded.  "But you didn't answer mine.  What do you want?"

            "My, my.  You're quite the rude one."

            "And your point?"

            "You should be more polite.  I might become your father."

            "I severely doubt that."

            "What?  What about me that any woman would resist?  Would you rather that Zylle marry some former convict?"  Crowley laughed.

            "Actually, I would."  The idea did appeal to him for some odd reason.  He didn't know why, but it DID sound better.

            Crowley looked shocked at that admittance, but smiled that smile yet again.  "Too bad.  Since I will be the one to get Zylle.  And who knows?"  He laughed.  "You may need to go to another family."

            Crowley was suddenly lifted eight feet in the air.  His legs kicked at nothing in his panic.  But Night gazed at the man with a cold anger in his blazing green eyes.  "I am a Hawking.  And you **definitely** won't end up with Zylle.  I won't let you and I severely doubt that she would let you either."  Night sent him flying into the yard of 19 Viento Street, straight into a mud puddle.  With a satisfied smile at Crowley's horrified mud-covered form, he continued down the lane towards _his_ home.  

            If Night were paying attention, he would have heard amused chuckling coming from the circular mirror hanging around his neck.  

***


	21. The Piracy of Destiny

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Twenty-One:  The Piracy of Destiny

            "Damn!"

            "I told you to duck."

            "Two seconds too late!"

            Aquarius shrugged indifferently as Thanatos rubbed his head.  Both stood in the hall of the castle of Annuvin.  Melania was silently fuming in her dark throne, blue eyes shining bright with repressed rage and fury.  Kybele stood to the side with a mix of anger and amusement.

            Rin, however, was another matter.

            "How could this have happened?!"  The usually collected magic goddess was bereft of all emotion other than wrath.  "I warned them this would happen!"

            "And it just blew up in our faces," sarcastically replied Aquarius.

            Kybele interceded with, "Well, at least we know Pheta had nothing to do with this."

            "How do you know that?"

            Thanatos quickly responded, "Sekhmet wouldn't be involved then.  You know that they hate each other considerably."

            Rin shouted, "I don't care!  Kardis is loose!  This is _bad_.  Do you know how much destruction that spirit could cause?!"

            "Which is why we need to find it again."  Everyone turned to look at Melania.  "Pheta won't pass up this opportunity.  Kardis' power may be enough to break the Dark Gateway."

            "We should have control of it fairly soon, sis."  Thanatos grinned.  "Don't worry."

            "Yes, they're on the sea," explained Aquarius.

            Melania sighed, "No offense to you, Aquarius, but something is going to go wrong.  Somehow, it always does."

            After a long two weeks at sea, they were finally docking.  Bill was exhausted.  He liked travel, but even this was a little too tedious for him.  He wished that they had been able to apparate, but both the Ministry and the Death Eaters would have found them all too quickly.  Something the Order of the Phoenix did not want.  All he had to do now was to deliver…whatever it was to Headmaster Dumbledore and then he could finally take a break.  The lights of London were bright against the night sky, blocking all illumination from the stars. 

            "We shouldn't land," said a voice from behind him.

            He turned around quickly in alarm, but relaxed once he saw that it was just Wyvern Irving.  The former Slytherin walked up to stand next to him against the railing.  His one good eye watched the approaching city warily.  "Yes," he said decisively.  "We shouldn't land."

            "What do you mean?"

            "Call it a hunch.  But if we land, we're only going to get trouble," the other said.

            Bill cracked a grin.  "Paid a little too much attention in Divination, have we?"

            Wyvern glared at him.  "Think what you want.  I wouldn't expect you to understand.  After all, Gryffindors are always the type to rush into things.  You don't know how to think or analyze what is right there.  That is what separates a Slytherin from a Gryffindor."

            "Yeah right," Bill replied arrogantly.  "Harry Potter does that all the time and he's a Gryffindor."

            Wyvern snorted.  "He's hardly a Gryffindor."  Bill turned to counter, but Wyvern continued.  "That boy is a Slytherin through and through."

            "Don't be dumb!"

            "Am I being dumb?  Explain why he knows Parseltongue, how he usually works things to his own advantage?  How he knows many of the things that go on around him and interprets the chaos correctly?  Where does he get his determination and ambition?  Why he distrusts authority so much, even when his own well-being is at risk?"  Bill was hit with one more rhetorical question, accompanied with a scathing brown gaze.  "How is it that he can take on the Dark Lord and predict more or less what he will do, where countless others, a majority of them foolhardy Gryffindors, have died horrible deaths?  Tell me that he isn't a Slytherin."

            Bill didn't know what to say.  He was spared though, by their entering the harbor.  The ship's crew started to pick up the packages that were placed on the deck earlier, one of them being a cage.  He watched as several sailors backed away from the hissing feline.

            "Don't kid yourself," Wyvern said.  "Just because someone is placed in a specific house doesn't mean they belong there."  Wyvern calmly then proceeded down to the dock from the gangplank.  The redheaded cursebreaker was at a loss for words.  Shaking his head, he too made his way down to the dock, right in front of the cage holding the cat.

            As he was going to take the cat with him via portkey to Grimmauld Place, everything stopped.  

            "Well, a Weasley.  Why am I not surprised to find one here?  Isn't this the place where the poor dredges of society come to scavenger?"  In front of them were Death Eaters, menacing in the black robes and pale white masks.  He knew the voice of that specific murderer though.  Only Lucius Malfoy would make a gibe like that.  Out of the corners of his eyes, he took in the terrified sailors, his shocked Ministry-supporting colleagues, and the stolid Wyvern Irving.  Malfoy laughed from behind his masquerade.  "If you hand over what we want, then we'll be on our way and leave you alone."  Again, the aristocrat chuckled.  "Relatively, that is."

            He gritted out with clenched fists, "And what do you want?"

            "Our little feline friend over there."  Malfoy lazily gestured to the now quiet cat, watching everything with its piercing green eyes.  "It would be quite useful to the Master."  Bill went forward to stop him from getting near it, but one of Malfoy's henchmen held him back with a barely missed curse.

            _So, that's it.  They want the cat._  He looked at the sleek black cat once more.  The tomb proclaimed it to be a magic enhancer of some kind.  Bill himself remembered the unnerving rush of energy he felt when the cat turned into a staff back in Egypt.  It seemed impossible, but it was true.  "You won't be getting it."

            "Really?  I think I've already have."  Kneeling down to peer into better, Malfoy sneered.  "I'm not surprised that it's in your care.  Look how disgustingly hideous it is."

            Bill could feel the anger that emanated from the cat now.  It apparently understood every word Malfoy said and understandably was offended.  He saw sharp claws retract and heard a low growl of warning.  Malfoy just continued to turn his nose up at it.

            "It evidently belongs in a trash heap."  

            Out of nowhere, the lock on the iron confinement snapped with a flash of blue light.  And the cat, not sparing the chance at both revenge and freedom, sprung forward.  It struck twice with its steel-like claws:  the first swipe slicing the mask into ribbons, the second drawing blood.

            Malfoy staggered back shrieking, hands covering his mauled face.  As if on signal, the mayhem began.  

            The Death Eaters started to fire spells everywhere.  Boxes exploded and splintered from poor aims.  The sailors ran off screaming the apocalypse.  They were muggle and would have to have their memories altered afterward.  But then again, they had reason to.  The people that he worked with were obviously cowards.  He was on his own.  To protect a cat.  

"_Stupefy!"  _He was fortunate to get several Death Eaters with that one.  He cast a quick shield to block a few spells from another dark wizard, but fell to the ground.  No shield spell, no matter how strong, could block the pain of the Cruciatus.  Bill could see the edges of his vision blurring red as the minutes passed by.  His throat was becoming hoarse from screaming.

            "_Reducto!"_  The death eater who held the curse was thrown violently back.  Bill could see someone kneeling next to him, all the while fighting off spells.  "Are you alright?"  When Bill gave no response, his savior yelled out, "Aren't you a Gryffindor?!  If you are, stand up and fight!"  

            Wyvern.  Wyvern Irving.  Out of all the people who hadn't left it was Wyvern.  

            "It's gone!"  A panicked voice shouted this out above the din.

            "What?!"

            "The cat's gone!"

            "Blast!  Everyone, stop!  There's no point!"

            Various popping noises signified the retreat of the dark wizards through apparition.  In a matter of seconds, the dock had gone from havoc to strained tranquility.  It was only he and Wyvern now.  Bill felt himself being tugged up to stand and being supported.  He grinned.  "Just because someone is placed in a specific house doesn't mean they belong there?"

            "Shut up and tell me where the resistance headquarters are."

            Bill laughed.

            "What a surprise to find you here, dear sister."  Erebus stepped out of the dark shadows.  The shaded roof of the docks' warehouse was a perfect view for what had just occurred.  His dark armor made no sounds as he walked towards the woman standing just a few feet away.  The wind mussed his dark hair and blue eyes were inquiring.  "Tell me what nefarious scheme is going through your head now."  He sighed.  "I'm sure it will bring trouble anyway so you might as well tell me.  And don't tell me 'a little bit of pirating'."

            The woman turned and smiled serenely.  Only her eyes, an almond hazel, gave away her amusement.  "Dear brother, whatever do you mean?"  The resemblance was striking.  Her hair was as dark as his was, but was choppily cut boyishly short.  Two large bangle earrings were engraved with various runes hung from her ears.  Her black robes flew in the wind.

            "I don't think I need to explain my meaning, Destiny.  What have you done?"

            "Kept Kardis away from Pheta."

            "So you released the cage?  Impressive.  I must say that I enjoyed that little show with Lucius Malfoy."

            "Glad you agree.  At least now, Kardis won't be going to Pheta-supporters."

            "Wise move," Erebus conceded.  "Now Kardis won't be held by Voldemort, who supports Pheta in her plan for total annihilation.  Also, the spirit won't go Dumbledore, the blind fool who worships her as a light goddess.  Brilliant."

            "Thank you."

            "But I can assure you that Melania wont appreciate it."

            "No matter.  She doesn't approve of me much anyway.  I doubt this will have much of an effect on her opinion."

            "Too true."

            "How are those whippersnappers, by the way? I haven't seen them in awhile and I'm under the suspicion that they prefer that."

            Erebus laughed heartily.  "You don't certainly try to raise yourself in their good books.  Artemis is still keeping an eye on things from the moon.  Moros is as always, sneaky and conniving."

            "He's going to drive Nyx to the grave."

            "If she could die.  Hypnos is working around the clock like usual and Thanatos is…himself."

            "Ah.  Don't bother, I understand."

            "Good.  I don't want to go into detail about what he did on that nude beach."

            "Please refrain."

            "If I must.  Ate is causing trouble since it's her nature to be mischievous.  Phobos and Deimos are doing what they always do:  overseeing terror and fear and whatnot."

            "Melania?"

            "Worrying about Tom and Harry.  And wondering why you don't give them more of a break."

            "How can I?  It makes them stronger!  They should not come to depend on us.  And you missed one."

            "Ah, Pandora.  What do you expect a goddess of hope to do?  She's trying to keep spirits up.  And she's having a hard time of it."

            Destiny looked on at the city of London.  "Well, humanity is entering a period of despair and depression."

            "They don't see it that way."

            "Of course they don't.  They're too busy 'inventing' things to make themselves lazier.  When they do realize, it'll be too late."

            "Like in the old days, you mean?"

            "Yes.  Then it was much simpler."

            "But that is the way of the universe.  It's happened to countless other civilizations, planets, stars, and galaxies.  It happens in a cycle.  That is how the three great powers keep order.  Well, the Almighty.  The Universe and Chaos have not been active in these matters for awhile."

            "They'll be coming back."

            "But of course.  Change is inevitable.  And that law in itself is a paradox by how it **doesn't **change."

            Dumbledore sagged in his seat.  "So, we failed."

            Remus Lupin looked over concerned.  "No.  We know that Voldemort doesn't have the cat either.  That's good news."

            "But it's a variable that could affect us later.  Possibly hurt us."

            Bill Weasley had come in just a few hours before, suffering visibly from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus.  He was even more surprised at who helped him.  The other was no Order member, but helped anyway.  After fussing over her oldest son, Molly had thanked and hugged the poor boy many times.  Remus could tell that the man wasn't used to that, judging from his overwhelmed and shocked face.  He was overall good-looking despite the eye patch, attracting the glances of many a female Order member.  Even Ginny Weasley, who had been staying in her room crying ever since Harry's disappearance, ventured a look.  Now, she was out and trying to help her brother, but her gazes kept returning to her brother's savior.  Remus had spoken to him earlier.

            ()()()()()()()

            "Your name is?"

            "Wyvern Irving."

            "Are you a Hogwarts graduate?"

            "Yep.  Slytherin house."  Remus was hit with an intense glare.  "I don't deny that I'm proud of it either.  Are you the werewolf I was told taught two years ago?  Remus Lupin?"

            "Yes."  He felt disconcerted.  "I see that got around."

            "My annoying cousin couldn't keep her mouth shut for her life."  The younger man scowled.  "Youngsters, always flighty.  Like Weasley's sister, for instance."

            "You mean Ginny?"

            "I don't know her name, but she's been looking at me like a lovesick puppy.  It's getting on my nerves."

            "She's just happy you saved her brother."

            "No," argued Wyvern.  "She has a crush on _me_ now, not Potter.  I'll bet she won't be staying in her room now."  Wyvern's scowl grew deeper.  "No wonder she's in Gryffindor.  She goes for heroes.  Pathetic."

            Remus brushed off Wyvern's insult to Ginny.  "But you are a hero.  You saved Bill."

            "I'm no hero.  I'm just human."  Wyvern looked out the window into the dark street.  "Therein lies the difference."

            ()()()()()()()

            "Do you think we can trust Irving?  He now knows of the Order."

            Dumbledore sighed.  "I think we can.  If he were a Ministry-supporter or a Death Eater then I would have known.  He is trustworthy.  Wholly Slytherin he may be, but trustworthy.  And Severus has vouched for the boy."

            "I guess we'll be searching for the cat, Harry, and keeping Voldemort at bay all at once?"

            Dumbledore looked at his wizened hands, forming a triangular pyramid.  Never before had Remus seen Dumbledore look so old.  "As daunting as the task seems, it is what we must do.  I believe Sirius is already trying to do the last two already.  May Pheta help us all."

            Sirius was still looking for Harry.  No matter how fruitless his searches were, he kept at it.  Even Snape had to compliment Sirius' determination.  Though Snape then turned it into an insult that resulted in a minor fistfight.  Ron had cheered Sirius on, despite his mother's protestations.  Hermione had given up her sentry at the window, but was now looking all over for spells to locate missing persons.

            "How is Snape?"

            "Exhausted.  He thinks Voldemort maybe getting suspicious to his true loyalties.  All this while he is preparing for the start of the school year.  I'm also worried about him."

            Remus gave a small joking smile.  "I think we all have in other ways."

            "I do not mean this as a joke," said Dumbledore seriously.  "He has been looking through his family records as if it were an obsession."

            "Family records?"

            "More specifically, his grandmother.  He feels that she said something important to him and that she knew more about what went on the world than most.  But so far, he has found nothing on her.  It was as if she had appeared from nowhere, which Severus said, was how his grandfather met her."

            "So he feels his grandmother had knowledge that could help us?"

            "Yes.  But there are no records at all on the woman.  Mirage Searle-Snape is a utter mystery."

            The man in the official-looking black robes and white wig stood up to read the verdict.  "The committee finds Peter Pettigrew…GUILTY of murder, fraud, manslaughter, espionage, treason, and for acting as an accessory to multiple crimes."

            Sirius Black watched without emotion as the verdict was given.  The time he had been waiting for had finally come.  He was now free both literally and figuratively.  He had no pursuers and the person who had started it all, all the torture and agony that he had been through for the past fourteen years, was finally going to get his punishment.  By all means, he should have been elated.  But he wasn't.  The moment was empty now.  What was the point?  He had failed his deceased best friend many times.  He wasn't able to care for his godson, **his** responsibility in case anything had happened to them.  The scene was flawed.  Harry was supposed to be here, next to him, happy that Sirius was free and he would have a decent home.  He could just picture him: black hair sticking up at all angles like his father before him, green eyes shining with happiness like his mother's used to, his thin face cracked in a joyful smile.  

            But he wasn't.  Harry was missing.  Sirius was just deluding himself.  He wished it were real.  But reality was a cruel mistress.

            Then again, so was payback.

            "Peter Pettigrew would receive the Dementor's Kiss as punishment for his crimes.  Any objections?  Nay?  Then proceed."

            The former convict inwardly cringed as the cloaked monstrosities glided into the room, a wave of cold fear in their wake.  Their breath rattled through the air and their audience's bones.  How he hated the foul guards of Azkaban, those evil beings who kept those equally evil trapped for their own enjoyment.  Sirius had to fight the urge to cast the Patronus Charm and let his silver dog patronus take them down.

            No.  Peter was going to get what he deserved.  

            The rat's already pale complexion turned a sick pasty color and his watery blue eyes widened with visible fear.  He kept looking around the room for an exit, but there were none to be found in this underground room.  The only exit was the only door and he would be taken down minutes before he could reach it.  Also, he couldn't change to Wormtail due to the charmed shackles on his wrists.  Peter Pettigrew was a dead man and he knew it.

            "NO!  NO, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!  PLEASE HAVE MERCY!"  Pettigrew kept screaming for compassion, but those pleas fell on deaf ears.  No one felt an ounce of pity for this man, who helped to murder so many.

It was in that moment, Pettigrew noticed his former friend and fellow Marauder sitting in the audience.  "SIRIUS!  SIRIUS!  YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!  PLEASE!"

            All eyes turned to him.

            He replied coolly, "Do you really expect me to help you?  After all you've done to everyone, especially me?  You don't deserve any mercy or pity.  Your fate was sealed the moment you began serving Voldemort."

            A majority of the people in the room reacted badly to the name of the Dark Lord, but Sirius had gotten his message across.  Pettigrew looked both shocked and angry.  Though why angry, Sirius would never know.  Nor would he want to.  Peter Pettigrew, his friend 'Wormtail', died years ago.  Now it was time for the traitorous shell that was left of him to face his dues.

            The scabbed hands pulled back its hood and grabbed Pettigrew from the collar of his robes.  Most of the room averted their glances as Pettigrew had his soul sucked out of his body through his mouth by the dementor.  But Sirius did not look away.  

            At the end of it all, Sirius felt no satisfaction.  There were more important matters to attend to.  Like finding the thing that made it important:  Harry.

            "ICY WIND!"

            He quickly brought up a flame shield as Professor Coulter hit him with an ice attack.  The assault was a combination of both wind and water, which made it much harder to block.  Wincing at the power rushing at him, he concentrated on forming thrower flamethrower-like move he had learned from Gran.  

            "FLAME BLAST!"  The fire shield flickered as he sent the flames against the wind.  As he expected, the attack was neutralized.  Smiling in victory, he decided to use a similar attack but instead using water to hit Professor Coulter.  

            But she was gone.

            "Wha-gah!"  He found himself with a wickedly sharp icicle held at his throat.  _But I had the advantage?!_

            "Never think that I won't move after attacking like that," Professor Coulter scolded.  "And you need to learn that you can't stay in one place."

            "Professor?  I think I understood that when you froze my feet in the first place."

            "Funny, Night, funny.  Do you understand why you cannot think you have the advantage just because you can use all the elements?  You need to overestimate your opponent in all situations and remember that all the elements are more or less equal in strength if employed correctly."

            This had gone on through the entire lesson and the lessons before as well.  Night shuddered to think what her regular classes faced if she taught like this.  

            Professor Coulter did not believe on going easy on anyone.  "It makes you soft," she claimed, "when you really need to be alert."  She had hit him with every kind of ice and water attack that he thought was possible.  At one point, he accidentally created an elemental sword from fire to protect himself from her most powerful attack 'Blizzard', but it had soon faded.  She had told him that it was just his elemental instincts kicking in.  Icicles, water blasts, and at one point an attack that shot boiling hot water at him.  She was certainly a master of the water element.  Night was honored that she was teaching him.  Even though one could pass it off more as trying to kill him.  But she said she liked him.  That was both a credit and a drawback.  It was in her opinion that those who managed to show potential should learn to exercise it and therefore be introduced to tougher situations than the norm.  Both fortunately and unfortunately, Night had a great deal of potential.

            But when they said she was tough, they weren't kidding.  Professor Coulter saw all weaknesses and strengths at a glance and used the knowledge to her advantage.  She was not the Blue Dragon of the Arashi-Tenku for nothing.  In actuality, Lavinia Coulter was just as feared and respected as Zylle was.  And that was something.  Though, the fame that Professor Coulter had was more of a result of terror.  She was quite merciless.  

            He could relate to her though.  Professor Coulter had come from very similar circumstances as himself.  She had been part of an abusive family herself (well, he thought he was abused.)  , belittled and neglected.  According to Gran, she was a mess when she was brought to Grey Tower Town.  The Dragons who had taken her away found out about her abilities and took her in.  Lavinia had taken their surname of 'Coulter' and worked hard to make them proud.  Gran had said that she certainly did.  Any rank of a clan leader was a high honor and Lavinia had taken the job of Blue Dragon.  The desire to repay those who cared for her was what drove her determination.  He surmised that they had that much in common at least.  Night for one, wanted to make Zylle proud of him.  

            "You're making good progress so far.  Have you been taught to form an elemental weapon yet?"

            "Not yet, professor.  But I should be learning it quite soon.  First, with wind, then with fire."

            "Good.  We'll start with water weaponry a week after that.  Have you been practicing?"

            "Yes…Zylle wasn't expecting I would use an ice attack two nights ago."

            "What happened?"

            "I was blown against the wall."

            "I see.  Typical Zylle.  The lesson is over for today.  I think you've done enough in these past two hours."

            _It had felt like more than five._  "Thank you, professor."

            "Your welcome.  Next Tuesday, 3:00 PM sharp."  Ice blue eyes narrowed dangerously.  "**Don't** be late."  Yes, Professor Coulter had quite the hatred of tardiness.

            It had lived a very long time. 

            It had many different names.  

            But throughout the ages its purpose was the same:  to find 'master' and serve him.

            An Egyptian sorcerer who wanted the ultimate weapon had created it.  He combined the abilities of nundu and many other predatory cats to give it exceptional feline abilities.  Then he added in the genes of regular housecat, the domestic desert hunting-cat that the nomads used, and kneazle to make it tame and loyal to him.  Next he called forth a spirit to make it even stronger.

            But he was not worthy.  Its spirit was old and powerful, loyal only to itself and to the gods creditable of worship.  It became exceedingly selective of its masters.  For one thing, several of them died after a few times of use.  Others seemed unaffected.  It drew its power from the person and amplified it, while adding in its own.  Thus great power was achieved.  But at a price did it come.

            Then they had come.  The pharaoh locked it away in the tomb.  But she was not upset.  He was worthy to become its master.  But he said that it had to be kept safe, that people would use it in bad ways.  So he sealed the tomb in a place where the sands were cursed by the wrath of the gods.  But the pharaoh was kind enough to fix the wards to grant it entrance and exit, so it would not die.  He did this under the name of a goddess called Melania Amarna.  It then decided that this goddess was one worthy of its appreciation.

            The goddess with the hazel eyes freed it, so it was thankful.  It was then that it took advantage of its new freedom and attacked the man who mocked it.  It wished it had the chance to kill him, but alas, it had to go.  Freedom was more important than vengeance.

            Here it was now.  Its master was gone and it had no idea what to do.  Everything had changed.  It adapted easily to its new world, but it couldn't help but feel homesick for paths not filled with the angry metal shells that ate people.

            Zephyrus Court.  Yes, it could read.  It had learned that by reading knowledge could be attained.  And how those little symbols could mean so much fascinated it.  The sun was barely above the horizon and it continued to walk in the early summer air.  This may have been a completely different country, one where the sun was not too hot and there was no sand, but it was definitely summer.  

            The door of one of the dwellings opened, one with a bound package lying on its stoop.  A boy with messy black hair and green eyes walked out and picked it up.  He began unwrapping the package and when he was done, held a long piece of wood in his hand as if it were sacred.  By sight, it could tell it was yew.  Then it saw the package contained other items:  a green and silver scarf, a long gray coat that looked old but had the scents of many extremely powerful protection spells on it, as well as a few books.  The boy read the note the package came with before grinning widely.  Neatly organizing the items into a pile he walked into the home.  

            But it was faster.  This boy was the new master.  It knew this fact instinctively.  He was like it in many ways.  And he had power.  It was the same power as the goddess who the pharaoh invoked and a similar power to the goddess with the hazel eyes.  That would mean he would not die.  And he seemed gentle.  That was a plus.  It streaked into the house before he closed the door.

            The boy hadn't noticed it.  Quietly, he made his way up the stairs to a green and gray room that still carried with it the darkness of the night.  Her feeling that he was gentle was confirmed.  There was a white owl on a perch, wide-awake and watching with alert orange eyes.  He petted its feathers affectionately and the bird hooted in response.  It decided not to harm it then, even it was hungry.  The master thought highly of the bird, so it would not attack.  The owl then turned its attention to it, but did not make any reaction.  It could tell that this owl was a spirit like itself, though meant to guard not to act as a weapon.  As the boy put the things away in his room, it had jumped onto the bed and walked around on it.  Comfortable.  It laid down in the green coverlet, wrapped its tail around its feet, and purred loudly.

            That was what made him notice it.  It could sense the shock that emanated from him as he cautiously approached it and knelt down to look at it more properly.  Dazed, he asked, "Where'd you come from?"

            It purred before getting up and rubbing its face against his cheek.  Hesitantly, he began to pet it, but when he saw that it was not going to attack and enjoyed the attention, grew more confident.  "Well, I don't know where you came from, you beautiful thing, but you seem alright."

            He thought it was beautiful.  It purred louder.  It liked him.

            "Night, what is that noise?"  A woman walked in.  It sensed she was one who was of wind and that she seemed to care a great deal for the master.  The master evidently cared a great deal for her.  And it now knew master's name:  Night.  The woman too seemed surprised.  "Is that a **cat**?"

            "Can I keep it?  It seems friendly enough."  Night's voice grew pleading.  "Please?"

***


	22. Counsel and Advice

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

*****

Chapter Twenty-Two:  Counsel and Advice

            Its master and the woman walked downstairs to discuss something.  Presumably, the topic was to decide what to do with it.  But it did not care.  It would stay anyway, even if it weren't allowed.  Haughtily, the cat padded over to the other spirit in the room.

_            I see that I am not alone. _

            **No, you are not.  But I wish to know why you are here.  I will allow no harm to come to the boy.**

_I see.  Well, you are a guardian spirit.  But I mean no trouble.  I come seeking only a master and I have found him.  The gods have given me the name of Kardis._

            **I am White Owl.  So you have chosen him?  Do you have any specific reasons for that decision?**  Obviously, the bird was suspicious of it.  Also, if it did come to a fight, it had no doubt that it would come to a draw.  This spirit was ancient and powerful, much like itself.  However, man didn't conjure or create it.  It sensed the power of the underworlds at work.

            _His power reminds me of a goddess who I have great respect for._

            **Would that be the goddess Melania Amarna, dark queen of the dead?**

            _Correct.  _

            **Then I foresee no problem with you.  The boy is a descendant of hers and she watches over him actively.  **

            _Actively?  What for?  I am certain he can take care of himself._

            **Oh, he can.  But can he stand against Pheta Vaneria?  He will come to in time, but at the moment, he cannot.  That is why we had to block his memories from his conscious and unconscious mind.  So that he could learn new abilities while in a loving environment that was denied to him before.__**

            So that is the underlying flow to all of this mess.  This goddess seeks to destroy the last of those born to Melania.

**It is none of Melania's fault.  And in a way, it is none of Pheta's.  Gryffindor ruined the balance of power.**

            _But that is how is how it always is.  For example, if that priest had just placed another jar of wine at the Temple of the Sovereign in Atlantis, that great utopia might have still survived today._

**This is true.  And there are other examples of this in history as well.  Destiny is a fickle deity.**

_She freed me from my cage in London.  I mauled the face of the one who mocked me._

            **I was wondering where the blood on your claws came from.  You had better clean them for the Lady Zylle is quite perceptive.  You also have to assume a more…mortal guise.**

            The cat looked at the owl with green eyes of confusion before it realized what it meant.  _I must take a gender and a new name you mean?_

            **It is necessary if you are to stay as a pet.  The name part we have no say in.**  White Owl flapped her wings.  **I have chosen to be female and have received the name of 'Hedwig'.  **

            _You would know._  A green aura surrounded it, before turning blue.  It vanished after a few moments.  _I guess I will receive my name soon.  But I am a male now._

            **Behave yourself.  **

            _You know where I am going?_

            **It is not hard to guess.  I still advise you to exercise caution.  Elementals are more perceptive than wizards.  **

            Thank you for the counsel.

            **It is no problem.  You are young.**

            How Zylle could manage to look impressive while wearing only a thin nightgown and a flannel bathrobe was something that probably wouldn't be revealed.  She sat across from Night in the living room, her gray eyes inquiring.  "How did the cat get in?"

            Here was the trouble.  "I opened the door to get a bit of fresh air," he quickly covered.  "I guess it came in then."

            She looked at him even more deeply.  "…I see."

            "Can we keep it?"

            Zylle's expression turned from intense to surprise.  "Repeat that again.  I think my hearing is finally going."

            "Can we keep it?  It doesn't seem to be doing anything wrong and it seems nice."

            "I don't know."  She raised an eyebrow.  "Do you think you can take care of a cat?"

            "Mu-Zylle!"  He caught himself right there.  No doubt Zylle wouldn't be able to take being suddenly called 'mum' along with the prospect of possessing a cat.  And he himself did not know how to deal with it.

            As if on cue, the black cat stalked into the room.  He nearly laughed.  It looked as if it already owned the house from the way that it walked.  Imperiously, it jumped up into Zylle's lap, curled itself up, and purred contentedly.  He grinned as he saw Zylle smile and pet the creature.  "Well…fine."  Night would have whooped here in victory if he didn't know that wouldn't get him anywhere.  "But remember, he is your responsibility."

            "Yes!"  The cat looked at him questionably when he did this.  "Now we need a name for him."

            "Call him 'Fluffy' or 'Paws' then I will not allow you to have this pet.  If we do have a pet, then he better have a unique name."  

            He thought for a bit.  "How about…hmm…"

            The older woman smirked.  "Difficulty?"

            "You aren't helping."

            "BREAKFAST!"  A sharp clanging reverberated throughout the house.  Source:  the kitchen.  Apparently, Gran was banging the meal 'gong' again.  

            "I'll think it over breakfast," Night resigned.  He got up and began to walk towards the dining room when he heard Zylle laughing.  "What's so funny?"  Zylle only pointed down.  Looking in the direction, he saw the cat sitting calmly at his feet.  Night shrugged and walked down the hallway.  Again, Zylle was laughing.  And again, the cat was at his feet.  It was following him as if it were his shadow.

            "Night.  There's a cat following you."  Trina pointed at the black feline that was trailing their amnesiac, but powerful, friend.  The trio was meeting at the beech tree in the park.  It seemed to have become their customary meeting spot.  "A really beautiful cat."

            The cat in mention looked extremely prideful of this fact.  Night just scratched the feline behind its ears, making the cat purr again.  He got the feeling that this cat was pretty happy a lot of the time.  "I know.  Zylle let me keep it."

            Bran rolled his eyes.  "Only _you_ could get away with that.  Even if I were allowed a pet – which I'm not – my little sisters would pamper it."  Bran really did love his younger sisters, even if he did not show it too well.  In public, that is.  When Night visited the Ravencroft household, he had broken down in hysterics when one had tied a pink ribbon in their older brother's red hair.  

            Trina reached over and also began to pet it.  "It's beautiful!  What's its name?  Is it a boy or girl?"

            Night grinned.  It seemed his new companion here liked all the attention.  "It's a male cat and its name is Shadow."

            "Shadow?"  Bran looked from cat to master.  "I get it."

            "Explain it to me then," Trina said off-handedly.

            Bran grinned at the girl.  "The cat happens to be Night's 'shadow' because it's following him everywhere."

            Sitting down at the base of the giant beech, they immediately got to the point of today's gathering.  Simeon Bradley.  Night had met him only about five days ago.  And he took a disliking to the other boy instantly.  The Bradleys were a prominent Arashi-Tenku family.  Since Zylle didn't have a son nor was she married, they had thought that claiming the title of 'Black Dragon' would be a piece of cake.  That was before Night had shown up.

            Now the family was in a rage against him.  Simeon Bradley himself had shown up to convey that perfectly.  He claimed that since he wasn't a clan member, he shouldn't compete in the tournament.  Also, the git began to insult Bran, who was there at the time.  Simon again, argued that Bran shouldn't compete either since Conrad Ravencroft had left the clan years ago.  _For a witch_, Simeon had said scathingly.

            It was time for payback.

            Night had been worried when Trina would come if she would try to stop them.  To his immense surprise and joy, she was just as enthusiastic as they.  She had even helped make the plan even better than it already was.  

            Night asked, "So, we're ready?"

            Trina grinned evilly, "Oh yeah.  That arrogant jerk needs a lesson."  Night had asked why she always wore a rose behind her ear, but the girl had just smiled and said _you'll see._  

            "I agree," Bran said.  "Let's make sure that his popular friends are there, too."

            They had just gotten up, Shadow still at Night's heels, when Night saw something that made him stop in shock.  

            "Guys…"

            Bran turned to him.  "What?"

            "That guy over there…" Night pointed.  "Is he walking around **naked**?"

            Trina covered her eyes while Bran looked.  "Yeah.  So?"

            "Bran, I don't think you understand how odd that is."

            "Actually, that's normal for him."

            "You're joking."

            "Nope.  He's Calvin Springfield, an earth elemental in our clan.  We call him 'Streaker'."

            "I can see why."

            Trina said, eyes still covered, "Don't worry about it, he's been doing that since he was five.  The main trick is to maintain eye contact or focus on his head."

            "…Thanks for the advice."

            "Here he is.  Let the plan commence!"

            A group of five boys were walking down the park lane, all dressed in modern and hip clothing.  It was easy to pick out the leader:  the brown haired boy with the self-centered smirk on his face.  They were walking along the path to the main square of the park, seeming to enjoy the writing on a certain piece of newspaper.  When Night had first met him, he had found it hard to believe that this guy was a wind elemental.  He was too brash and too narrow-minded.  But after all the insults, it was time for revenge.  Night gave the signal to Bran, stationed in a tree across the path, before putting up a water shield around Trina and him.  

            "Hey…Simeon!  Is it just me or is it getting a bit warm?"  The boy pulled at the collar of his shirt.  The sudden increase of heat also made them start sweating profusely.  Night and Trina were perfectly comfortable within the cool water shield while Bran was lounging in the heat unconcernedly.  Fire elementals were accustomed to extreme heat.  One of the reasons they did this was because they knew that none of Simeon's friends were water or fire elementals. 

            "Calm down," said Simeon imperiously.  "I'll handle it."  Night felt Simeon tap into the winds.  But he was prepared.  _I don't think so._  The winds, instead of blowing cold air like the other intended, had just blown the heated air back at them.  When Simeon realized what was going on, he immediately stopped.  He cringed when he noticed the glares of his friends, obviously annoyed that he had done that.  "Sorry."  But he wasn't going to be let off.  The winds had started up again.

            Grinning, he nudged Trina to start her part.  

            Bran nearly fell out of the tree laughing when one of the boys let out a high-pitched scream.  The prim flowers planted around the square had started release stinging pollen while the trees attempted to reach out and grab them with their branches.  The winds that Night was making made the pollen even worse.  The group of stuck-up boys looked scared out of their minds.

            While they were distracted, Night saw Trina reach out for the rose behind her eye.  Smiling widely, she brandished it.  In a flurry of rose petals, he saw that she now held a thorny whip in her hands.  With a swift motion, she managed to catch the paper that was evidently hilarious, while making a tear in Simeon's designer jeans.

            "Let's get out of here!" That guy went off running, shrieking.  After a brief pause and a swift look, the others went to follow his example.  But they didn't quite make it.  They had slipped on ice a la Night.  

            Night was clearly enjoying himself, as was Trina.  He even thought that Shadow seemed to be having a good time.

            It was at this point that they were going to sneak away.  There was no need to tell Simeon who had done this.  They stopped when a stream of water from the fountain splashed all four remaining boys forcefully.  

            The guys had then run off in fright, making quite the comical scene.  Night looked around to find who did that stream of water since it wasn't him.  Behind the trees, he saw a tall boy with deep blue eyes and spiky light brown hair.  The guy just gave him a half-smile before vanishing.

            "You mean-"

            "Yep."

            Night ran up and gave Zylle a giant hug.  "Today has to be the best day of my life!"

            "Don't tell me I have to question what you've done today," exclaimed Zylle jokingly.  "You've probably done nothing but cause trouble."

            "It's the truth."

            "Well, anyway, it's time you learned how to form an elemental sword.  I daresay you practiced enough with the regular sword to know the basics."

            "Right," he nodded.  He guessed that she knew about the extra sword training that he had been doing.  It had helped a lot:  he blocked more and got better hits than he had before. 

            "This is what you do," started Zylle.  "It's relatively simple."

            He first looked at her in shock and then glared.  "Then why am I learning it now if it was easy?!"

            "It won't form if you don't know how to use a sword."

            "Oh.  Continue."

            "But of course, your majesty," Zylle said pompously.  "First things first, form a ball of wind in your hand.  Sort of like how you would form a fireball."

            Night put out his right hand and concentrated.  Fireballs were easy.  And Gran had made it a whole lot more fun learning them by having a mini-war in the living room.  Of course, there was quite a bit of cleaning that had to be done afterward.  Feeling a cool orb of wind energy in his hand, he looked up at Zylle to give him further instructions.  

            "Now, just think of a sword and there it is."

            "I can't believe it's that simple."

            "In theory, it is.  But you have to have enough mastery and experience with the weapon and the element to do it.  You're doing pretty well.  Most elementals take about two months to form even the bare bones of a weapon.  See?  Training pays off."

            Night just gave her a look of exasperation.  "That depends on what kind of training," he replied, thinking about his last lesson with Professor Coulter.  She had taught him the importance of movement in a duel.  By freezing his feet to the ground.  "Here goes nothing."  Thinking of the basic characteristics of a sword:  blade and hilt, he waited.

            It did not take long.  After a few seconds, the ball of wind energy was replaced by a very light weight.  In his hands, he held a long sword.  He recognized the signs that showed it was made of wind:  the swirls, the grays, the blues and purples.  It was fashioned in the Japanese style, not a broadsword.  Of this, he was glad.  When he tried some of the broadswords that the Hawking family possessed, he felt awkward and only managed to just swing it blindly.  

            "Wow," was all he could choke out.

            "Are you just going to stand there with it?  C'mon!  Try it out!  Here!"  With a whirlwind, a large metal box appeared in the middle of the room.  It was about twice as tall as Night himself and made out of solid steel.  "Cut through it."

            "Zylle, that's steel!"

            "I think I know that.  Trust in the sword.  It's a simple jump slice, not too hard."

            He shrugged.  _Hope it doesn't break_.  He jumped into the air, using the air to push himself up for more height like he was taught, and brought the blade down onto the strong metal.

            The sword had cut through it as if it were butter.

            Night looked at Zylle, who was smiling widely.  "Good.  Now, we see how it does with rock."

            It was going to be a long period of training.

            Voldemort cowered at the feet of the golden-haired goddess.  "I am so sorry, milady.  Please forgive your humble servant!"  He trembled in fear.

            Pheta glared at him with pale lavender eyes filled with rage.  He supposed that she might have appeared beautiful to mortals.  She certainly did not hide her figure with her white gown and wore more jewelry than he doubted the earth could provide, courtesy of the god of smiths.  But he was more afraid of her than anyone.  Pheta was powerful despite her front as a benevolent and gentle light goddess.  "Kardis was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you squandered it!  If you had captured it, then our plans could have been accomplished much more quickly and with even more success!"

            "My lady, they claimed the cage holding the cat broke open."

            "I am well aware of that, Voldemort!"

            "But lady," the demon pleaded.  "One of them thought he saw a dark-haired woman watching them all!"

            Pheta paused.  "Dark-haired woman?  Any more specifics?"

            "Short hair and hazel eyes."

            The goddess scowled.  "Don't make up lies!  There is no goddess that looks like that!  She must've been some witch.  Never bring up worthless pieces of information to me again!"

            He cowered even more.  He was even more hesitant to mention the last two pieces of news.  Pheta, however, fixed him with a sharp look.  "Well, at least the cat hurt Malfoy.  Worthless pawn.  Now, what other bad news do you have for me?  Yes, I know that you're hiding."

            "Wormtail is a shell now."

            "Wonderful," she muttered.  "What else?"

            "My wand," he choked out.  "It has been stolen."

            "What?!  YOU IDIOT!"  He cringed.  He knew how important that wand was.  It was a fact that it had been destined for a descendant of a god made it much more powerful than a normal wand.  And since the descendant had used it previously, it had grown stronger because the power had gone directly into the grain of the wood.  In the end, it wasn't the phoenix feather that powered the wand, but more of the user.  HOW COULD YOU HAVE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN?!  I WOULD KILL YOU NOW IF IT WOULDN'T RUIN MY PLANS!"

            "Why do I have to do this at midnight?"

            "Because," Tom reasoned, "You don't have any other free time."

            "You are cruel."

            "No, I am demanding.  We have work to do, young man!"

            Cat and owl watched the exchange interestedly.  They would have never thought to see their master argue with someone in a mirror.  Though they did rather enjoy the older man's presence. 

            "I.  Am.  Tired," Night said, enunciating each word.

            "I.  Am.  Trapped.  Here," Tom imitated.  "So.  There."

            "You're impossible."

            "I know."  Tom gave a boyish grin.  "It's what makes me so lovable."

            "Then why weren't you married?"

            "Easy.  A demon does a hell of a number on your social life when it's possessing you," Tom replied knowingly.  "Maybe when I get out of here, I can meet this 'Zylle'."

            "Tom!"

            "What?  Is it because of the age thing?  Because I can assure you that older women are better than younger ones at times because they _know_ what they want."

            "Why am I listening to this?"

            "Because you have no choice in the matter.  HA!"  He paused.  "You know what?"

            "What?"

            "We sound like the Lady and Uncle Nat."

            "May the Almighty forbid," they said in unison.

            Harry pulled himself up from his face-down, spread-eagled position on the bed.  "So, what am I learning?"

            "Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the Dark Arts."

            "The Dark Arts?"

            "Oh, yeah, we're going to go really in-depth with _that _one.  But we're starting with transfiguration first."

            "Whoopee," Night replied unenthusiastically.

            Tom smirked.  "Actually, I think you might enjoy this.  It's much more useful than the stuff that they do regularly in Hogwarts."  He scowled, "When would there be a time where I would need to turn a turtle into a tea pot?"  The older man paused.  "Why a turtle?"

            "Excellent point.  But what am I learning?"

            "How to transfigure stuff into food."

            This had Night interested.  "Stuff into food.  Can that be done?"

            "I thought your grandmother practiced metamorphosis with you."

            "Yeah, but that's different."

            "Not by much.  It's merely a different type and method of magic.  But it can be done.  Did you know that Hogwarts doesn't teach this?"

            "Why not?"

            "Who knows?"  A hand-sized rock appeared beside him on the big.  "Transfigure that into an apple."

            Night raised an eyebrow.  "Do you mind explaining **how**?"

            "I don't see why I have to.  It's easy:  point the wand, concentrate on turning it into an apple."

            "Please!"  He was talking to Tom while offhandedly pointing the wand given to him by Tom at the rock.  "It can't be that effortless!"

            "Really?  Then explain **that**."

            "What?"  Night looked beside him.  A stark contrast to the emerald green coverlet, sat a bright red apple.

            "See?  Never doubt me.  I'm usually right."  He then added.  "Remember the '_usually_' part in case I'm ever wrong."

            Zylle and Night were walking down a busy London avenue the next day.  They had gone out to buy a few things, including a new microwave.  He and Bran had forgotten that microwaves couldn't be mixed with elemental magic.  If they do, they blow up.  Though they had demolished the kitchen, Gran had congratulated them on an exceptional explosion.  Zylle just shook her head and sighed.  She explained later that she herself had done it before.

            Zylle was attracting a lot of attention on the street.  Night guessed it was because she was wearing a blue tank-top and gray capris with strappy high-heeled sandals.  Many of those stares came from men.  Night admitted that she was good-looking and that it wasn't odd that she was receiving all these looks, but it still bothered him.  She was, after all, the closest thing he had to a mother.  He also guessed that some of the people had assumed that he was her son, since some of the guys backed away when they saw him beside her.  He hadn't worn his gray contacts, but there seemed to be enough of a similarity.

            Thankfully, the shopping trip was over.  They had ordered the new (and better) microwave and it would be delivered to 14 Zephyrus in a few days.  Gran would have mixed feelings.  She liked making fire.  But she missed the microwave for the pizza that Hans brought over sometimes.  Thankfully, she was keeping Shadow company.  Shadow had wanted to follow him like usual, but Zylle wouldn't allow it.  He could see her point:  something bad could happen to it while in the big metropolis.

            A voice called out, "ZYLLE!"  It was an unfortunately familiar and disliked voice.  Both of them turned around.  Walking swiftly towards them was David Crowley.  And Night distinctly disliked the look he was giving Zylle.  Zylle herself didn't seem to appreciate it either.

            "What do you want, Crowley?"

            Crowley sighed.  "Please, Zylle, I've told you many times to call me 'David'."  He then gave a winning smile.  "Or preferably, 'yours'."  Crowley then smirked at Night when he thought Zylle wasn't paying attention.

            Night felt like hurting him considerably.  This guy was hitting on Zylle in the middle of the street, _right in front of him_.  He couldn't hurt him though.  What would Zylle think?

            "I would prefer to call you 'Crowley' despite your protestations," she said coolly.  "What do you want?"

            "I was thinking that why don't you and I get together tonight."  Again, Crowley smiled cheesily.  "I know a wonderful little French place.  I can pick you up myself."

            He was seething.  He made to step forward, but Zylle held him back with a restraining hand.  She smiled back at the arrogant git and said, "I'm sorry, but I really want to have some time with my son.  I hope you understand that he's extremely important to me."  Night felt a rush of feeling towards Zylle.  And gratitude:  he'd find someway to stop her if she did take that invitation.  He was sure that he and Gran could come up with a good plan if push came to shove.

            "Honestly, Zylle, you have better things to do." Crowley replied.  "But you should keep a better eye on him.  Discipline him more.  He was quite rude when we met."  _Oh crap._

            "Really?  Is that true?"  He heard a steel edge to her voice, but he wasn't sure if it was towards him or Crowley.

            "Oh yes.  He knocked me into the mud after just an introduction."

            "Is that so?"  Zylle smiled beatifically down at him and mussed his already messy black hair.  "Then, I'm proud of him.  Now if you excuse me, Crowley, we really must be going.  Good bye."  She grabbed Night's hand and lead him down the street pasted a stunned David Crowley.  He pushed down his bangs when a stray wind blew.

            "HARRY!"  Someone was calling a person's name from down the street.  The person yelling seemed to be getting closer.

            He and Zylle kept walking on and he asked, "You're not mad that I did that to him?"

            "Nope.  I hate him and after ten years, he still hasn't gotten the message yet."

            "HARRY!"

            "Whew," he sighed.  "For a second, I thought I was in trouble."

            "Oh, you are.  Don't be in doubt about that."

            "HARRY!  HARRY!"  

            They walked into a deserted side alley and used a whirlwind to transport back to Grey Tower Town.  As they were leaving, Night wondered whether this Harry person was deaf or something.

            "Hermione, why are we going down this street.  It's muggle."

            "There's some things here I need to buy, Ginny.  Come on!  Sirius, do you mind?"

            Sirius sighed.  "No, of course not."  He wondered how he got caught up in this.  _Oh, yeah, Dumbledore told me to take a break._  He didn't need a break.  He needed Harry and to look for him.  Not to escort two teenage girls shopping around London.

            "That Wyvern guy was cute."

            "Yeah, I noticed you were looking at him."

            "I know.  But he's too…Slytherin.  You know what I mean?"

            "Gotcha."

            "Besides, I'm still waiting for Harry.  I only came out to see how Bill was doing."

            Sirius did **not **need to hear this.

            He guessed he was chosen to do this was because he was one of the few people the Order of the Phoenix had that could pass as a muggle relatively well.  He was dressed in a t-shirt and faded jeans, with his hair in its customary ponytail.  Normal looking.  He and James had plenty of education from Lily and their own escapades into London.  _How I miss those days._

            Sirius looked up at the shop that the two girls stopped at.  It was a boutique strictly for girls.  He had no place in there.  "I'll wait for you girls out here," he said.  They nodded and went in.  He could see how hard they were trying to act normally.  But nothing could draw attention away from the frown hidden beneath those smiles.  He sat down on the bench not too far away and waited.

            He contented to watch the people pass him buy and reveled in his anonymity.  No one knew who he was nor were they going to call the police on him.  Those days were over.  He was a free man.  Who was wishing for the days when he wasn't free.

            Across the street, his gaze landed on an attractive woman around his own age across the street.  A very attractive woman.  He shook this thought out of his head.  He didn't need this.  She was talking to some pretty-boy guy who seemed to try to be flirting.  Sirius scoffed.  _That's no way to treat a lady, especially one like **that**.  _The woman blew him off and grabbed the hand of a boy next to her to continue down the street.  He had not seen the boy in those moments before.  The woman blocked him from view.  They looked a great deal alike.  Messy black hair, the same way of walking…except the woman had gray eyes while the boy had a striking…**emerald green**.  A stray wind blew and the boy's forehead was revealed for a few moments he pushed them back down into place.  There was a scar shaped like a thunderbolt.  Only one person had that scar:  it was Harry. 

            Standing up, he rushed across the street, barely avoiding the incoming traffic, and took off after the pair.  "HARRY!"  

            Harry didn't turn around.  He kept on walking, chatting with the woman.  _Who was this woman?  Did she kidnap him?  Is she a Death Eater?_  Still running, he called out Harry's name.  But the boy still made no reaction.  They turned down a deserted side alley.  When he turned into it himself, there was no one there.  Just the vestiges of wind.

            Destiny walked along the stone pathways of Aiken-Quincy Park.  It was an extremely magical place, if not in general, then for its beauty.  She was looking for something, or rather someone.  She was certain he'd be here, too.  She would know, being the goddess of fate.

            There he was.  Sprawled on a park bench, exhausted.  The spirit Kardis sat beside him, enjoying the company of its new master.  She smiled.  Zylle Hawking did not give punishments, she gave training sessions.  It was a method that she approved of.  Not only did it teach him a lesson, but also it gave him strength.  _Though,_ she thought, thinking of one Simeon Bradley, _not everyone gets it._  He was reading a newspaper clipping and seemed to be very confused by it.  She could not blame him.  It was about him, although he did not know it.  But he would come to.  In time.  

            She could tell he was adapting well to his powers.  He was beginning to walk like the wind elemental Zylle did, graceful and fluid.  It was heartening.  Wind elementals nowadays did not possess the same poise and smoothness.  Zylle was one of the few left.  Destiny assumed it had something to do with Gyelia.  The goddess of the winds was as inconsistent as ever, hardly doing her job.  Destiny supposed that she herself could be called 'fickle', but she preferred 'capricious'.  

            The boy certainly took after the family as well.  The black hair, the aura of mystery and dark; he was definitely born of their line.  His eyes, though green and a slightly different shape, already possessed the quality that gave others the feeling of being seen straight through.  And if her brother was correct, he inherited silver sight.  A highly useful psychic ability, though it could also be used against them.  Pheta's crusade against Tom had proved that.  Destiny wondered how he could be so like them.  His father and the rest of his ancestors were Gryffindor to the core:  brash, rude, and without refinement, in her opinion.  Yet he, who possessed the same blood as they, did not act like that.  Somehow, the good qualities of the dark deities had overridden those mortal traits.  She was also happy to see the boy gaining more weight and muscle.  He was far too thin.  In a few years, he should regain all the health that he lost while in the care of those horrible muggles.  It was also good to see that he had friends now and a loving family.  The things that should not have been denied to him in the first place.  Tom was also helping immensely while also gradually healing from his own ordeal.

            "Hello, young man."

            He looked up at her with intense green eyes.  Destiny could even see the beginnings of gold and silver flecks in them, a trademark of the family.  Tom had already had them.  _Kudos to Melania for finally producing some worthy descendants._  He would only see her as an old woman with hazel eyes, with those same flecks.  It took a lot of time for members of their family to change those eyes.  Many people did not know what she looked like anyway.  Destiny wasn't fond of appearing in public.  She hated the questions.  Harry pushed himself up into the proper position.  "Hello, ma'am," he said politely.  Kardis looked at her with familiarity.  So, it remembered her.

            _Good, he has some manners_.  _Unlike his father, thank goodness.  _She inwardly scowled when she had met James.  He chased her down the street with fireworks calling her an 'old crone', laughing like a maniac the entire time.  But he did lose three quidditch games and failed a few tests after that.  "What's a young whippersnapper like yourself loafing about?"  She reached over and scratched the feline's ears.  

            "Just resting.  It's been a hectic day."

            "I see.  Well, remember this, young one."  She leaned in and spoke softly.  "We are always around, even in disguise.  Give my regards to my niece.  She's probably still in that palace of hers dealing with Nat."  Destiny watched as the boy's eyes grew wide.  _Intelligent.  He understood._  "On the night of the red moon, ask for the night goddess.  She will help you."  

            With that she walked off, leaving a very shocked and confused descendant behind.  That was her trademark way of leaving them though.

**Boy-Who-Lived Missing!**

_According to reliable sources, Harry James Potter has vanished from his relatives' home and cannot be found.  His disappearance was discovered when a wizard went to collect Potter on July 31st.  Later, it was revealed that Potter had in fact been missing since the night of July 28th.  In the testimonies by Potter's aunt and cousin (names withheld), Potter had transported himself out of his home via a whirlwind.  However, Ministry magic detectors did not pick up any magic signal that night, so this is viewed as skeptical.  More shocking is the revelations about the Boy-Who-Lived's home life._

_Potter's uncle had apparently abused the young wizard every time he was at the home.  Potter's cousin claims that at first it was only small things, "like a smack or two", but it fast accelerated into serious injuries when the family started to experience troubles.  Potter's aunt says that the last time she had seen the boy she had first glance thought him to be dead._

_Medical teams, Aurors, and average wizards alike are searching for the wizarding world's savior.  Sirius Black has offered one thousand galleons for his godson's safe return.  The Ministry of Magic is also offering 750 galleons as a reward for finding Harry Potter as well.  We can only hope that we find him soon._

_-Daily Prophet senior correspondent Maximillian Waring_

            "What does this all mean?"


	23. The Knights of Death

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Twenty-Three:  The Knights of Death

            "Jerry?"

            "Yeah?"

            "Your parents are insane."

            "I know.  I think it comes with the territory of being biologists."

            Dudley cringed.  All around him, buzzing and clacking, were insects of all kinds.  They were everywhere, kept contained within glass jars and tanks.  He was particularly nervous about the jar that contained a swarm of wasps within its clear confines that was just adjacent to him.  He wondered how Jerry dealt with this everyday:  his friend was infamous for his hatred and phobia of any insect life.  They were at the Maplethorpe home, sitting in the modest study of Jerry's parents.  It was a relatively decent home, mostly due to Jerry, as his parents were rarely ever home with free time.  

            Dudley, still on edge, asked, "You said over the phone that you had something to tell me?"

            "Yeah."  Jerry rummaged through the mess of machinery and circuitry that cluttered the surface of the desk.  "Here it is," he said, holding up his black and silver MiniMancer.  "I figured it out!"

            "Do you mind if you clarify a bit?"

            Jerry rolled his eyes.  "The transporter!  It can transport us to our rooms now!"

            "Really?"  Dudley looked at him skeptically.  "You figured it out?"

            The other sighed and turned to the computer.  After a few clicks, a diagram was brought up showing the MiniMancer in a three-dimensional blueprint form.  Rapidly typing on the keyboard, Jerry brought up magnifications of certain parts of the tool.  "It's like this," he started.  The window showed a chip that was inside the main part of the MiniMancer.  "This chip is a combination of both magic and machinery.  The magic is inside the chip, while the circuitry enables us to use it with a tap of a button."  He pointed at the actual device lying on the desk.  "The complexity of the thing is astounding.  I'm surprised I could even figure that out."

            Dudley whooped in triumph.  "This is great!  Everything will be much easier because of this."  This was an understatement.  His mother had nearly caught him five times now.  Cami and Alyce weren't faring too well either.  It was really nice of Jerry to try to solve this problem since he himself had no trouble getting in and out of his house at night.  According to Jerry himself, his parents did care, but were just too busy to care for him properly.

            The technical genius himself leant back his swivel chair arrogantly.  "You owe me big because of this, you know."

            Dudley grinned.  He could play this game, too.  "Really?  And here I thought you were doing this out of the goodness of your soul."  Dramatically, he put a hand over own heart and formed a mock-expression of shock and pity.  "Oh, that's right.  You don't have one."

            Jerry lunged forward in the swivel chair to get a Dudley, but Dudley made it to another swivel chair in time.  His loss of weight was very noticeable now.  The former bully had loss an incredible twenty-five pounds since his encounter with the Shadow Goddess.  He knew that the running and the work at the construction company had something to do with it.  Dudley also assumed that hunting demons down also qualified as exercise.  But he was pleased with the result.  Instead of fat, he was gaining muscle and his spirit energy was already strengthening.  To the point that he was getting odd looks in public from those that he could tell had mild spiritual awareness, actually.

            He didn't know how to handle everything when school started up.  Alyce had reassured him that they would be able to deal with it, but he was still uneasy about it.  The prospect of going to Stonewall also daunted him.  

            But, at the moment, the thoughts of Stonewall and scheduling were far from his mind.  Dudley and Jerry rolled around the wooden floors of the house's first story on their swivel chairs, screaming and laughing.  When they had swiveled past a linen closet, pillows were introduced to the great chase.  

            These were the times worth treasuring, for one never knows what could happen next.  Dudley knew that his childhood was not really a pleasant part of his life, despite the fact that he had received everything he wanted.  No.  This kind of happiness made life worth living.

            It's dodged through the dark trees of the forest easily.  Unfortunately for the demon, it's coloring gave it away.  The scaly skin's bright orange and pale white pigments made it stand out in the shade.  Still it ran in a futile attempt to escape.  For it had decided it would not return to the other realms.  To it, there was no logic in leaving a world full of living prey that was waiting to be eaten to return back to it's own world:  where larger demons hunted it.  No matter what anyone said, including the Dark Queen of the Dead, it would not go back.

            Dudley and Alyce ran on after it, ignoring the growing fatigue in their legs to accomplish their goal.  They had been on the trail of this particular demon for three hours already.  Jerry had stayed behind to help Cami through.  It was very difficult for her, even in the harsh light of the full moon.  If Dudley listened carefully, he could hear the howling of wolves in the night wind…

            Finally, when they had entered a small clearing, the demon had turned around and faced them.  Dudley and Alyce stood ready.  The creature was a Palvermil demon, notorious among demons for their preference of human food, according to the Mancer.  Dudley was reminded of the textbook pictures of the extinct dinosaurs of times past.  The Palvermil's fanged reptilian face snarled angrily.  It's arm claws were extended, but Dudley doubted they would be much use in the inevitable fight.  They were far too short.  He had the same opinion of the demon's legs, which would most likely be used for dodging in this case.  Fangs and speed, it was a wonderful combination.  But that was probably what helped it kill and devour ten Edinburgh residents so easily.

            It opened its mouth and a harsh, hissing voice asked, "Youu doo nott givve upp easssily, doo youu notttt?"

            "Of course we don't," Alyce countered.  "Did you think we would?"

            "Most of your kind dooo," it replied.  "I know from exxxperriennceee."

            "I'm sure you do," Dudley tersely replied.  "You must return to the dark realms.  If you do not, then we have orders from the Shadow Goddess to eliminate you."

            "Ahhhh," it murmured.  "You follllow the waysss of the Darkkk Laaddy?  Howw sstrangeee.  Huumaanss thiinkkk ssshee iss eevill."

            Dudley interrupted, "Nevertheless, will you comply?"

            "Nooo."

            "I hate when they do this," Alyce said as she prepared her spirit energy field.  She had been practicing minor spirit shots, so she could cover him if necessary.  But her spirit shields were what were really exceptional.  

            Dudley grinned, "Do we all?"

            Making a terrible growl, it made for them.  Ready for it, Dudley formed a sword made of spirit energy.

            He didn't need it.  And the demon never managed to get even three feet away from them.  

            The Palvermil fell to the ground, obviously dead, bluish blood trickling down from a wound.  The weapon that made this was a dagger, nearly completely embedded in the scaly skin of the demon.  Dumbly, Dudley stared at the deceased creature.  

            Alyce, however, turned around and shot a spirit bullet into the trees.  It missed though.  The bright violet eyes showed where it was and it clearly dodged it.  He looked down at his MiniMancer (Jerry had the real one).  It was detecting a demon of around Alyce's and his own power levels.

            Dudley yelled out, "Who are you?!"

            The shape gracefully jumped down before them.  The disturbing purple eyes glared at them, alarming because of the demon's dark brown skin.  He had cut his dark coarse hair closely to his scalp.  Judging from his bare arms, he was quite strong though he physically looked around Dudley and Alyce's respective ages.  The demon bowed in what could be deemed respectfully.  "My name is Lirenas.  I am a user of the spirit arts just as you are, specifically the techniques of summoning and stealth.  Am I correct in assuming that you do serve the great Shadow Goddess?"

            "Yes," Dudley responded suspiciously.  "What of it?"  He made a slight motion to Alyce to have a shield ready just in case.  

            "There is no need to put up defenses," Lirenas said abruptly.  "I mean no harm.  And I have come not to antagonize you, but to help you."

            Alyce bluntly asked, "What for?"

            Lirenas said, as though speaking to a young child, "The world is changing around us and the prophecies will come to pass.  I seek to help the goddess protect this world and to grow stronger."

            "Prophecies?"  Dudley had heard nothing of this.

            Lirenas shook his head.  "It is not for you nor even I to know.  Only a select group of people has access to the texts made years ago, which tell of what is to come."  

            The dark-skinned demon looked up to the sky and said cryptically, "Mars, the realm of the dark god Ares, is bright tonight.  And it will grow still brighter.  The light of Artemis will not hold back what has been foretold for centuries to pass."

            Dudley was lost in a whirl of confusion.  And judging from Alyce's expression, she was as comprehending of this as he was.

            So, Lirenas had joined Dudley's group of fighters.  But it had been a shock for him to have the demon himself to show up at Dudley's doorstep the next morning.  His mother then explained to him that they were hosting an exchange student from the country of Kenya:  Lirenas Muwambe.  Dudley was relieved when Lirenas decided to take the guest bedroom.  If he had taken Harry's room, he would have killed the demon right there and then.

            Cami greeted the demon amicably, later saying that she was quite certain he was a friend.  Jerry was skeptical.  He had fought far too many demons and was pretty suspicious of this one coming forward as a friend and ally.  Jerry had even tried to get Dudley to get rid of him.  Alyce decided to see how things went.  If Lirenas proved to be an enemy in disguise, they would take him out.  Dudley had chosen to take Alyce's point of view.  Besides, what would his mother say if 'Lirenas Muwambe' suddenly disappeared?  It would look pretty suspicious.  He didn't want to take that chance.  

            Lirenas didn't seem that eager to make friends either.  He largely went off on his own, getting a feel for the town.  Though one time, Dudley found him in the local park looking up at the night sky.  It was an odd conversation.

            "Why do you look up at the sky so much?"

            "The night goddess writes the secrets of the world in her veil while her children show their emotions in their lights."

            "Like Artemis and Ares?"

            "Not Ares," he had said.  "Ares is no child of Mother Night.  But he and his sister Eris are deities in which one must be careful with.  They are very erratic.  It is something to be expected from those born of the witch goddess Hecate, sister to Destiny and Erebus of Tartarus."

            Dudley did not know what to say to that then.  He should have realized that there were far more gods than the Shadow Goddess herself.  He also should guess that there were even more of a variety of demons.  So, he put up with Lirenas, however awkward it was.  

            Currently, the five of them were after a water demon that refused to go back to the dark realms in Wales.  Dudley did not like the country with its long grasses, crags, mountains, and winds.  He had found that preferred Scotland, even above his native southern England.  With a pang of guilt, he realized it would have probably appealed to Harry.  He could just imagine his skinny cousin in this scenery…

            Hastily, he put that to the back of his mind.  It was too distracting.  And he needed to be alert for this.  And it would be indirectly helping Harry out by doing this.  

            He watched as Lirenas jumped ahead of the demon and summoned a spirit shield to stop the demon.  It tried to retreat, but Alyce copied Lirenas' idea and cast a spirit shield of her own.  Now the demon was trapped within the strong confinements of two spirit shields.

            Dudley could now tell that she was female.  She twitched her fish-like tail agitatedly while kneeling in a defensive crouch.  She was hideous:  her green hair hung like limp seaweed off her head and onto her blue-green shoulders.  White eyes that reminded him of blind fish blinked back at him angrily, disgusting him with each batting of a blue-greenish eyelid.  She spoke in an annoying high pitch screech not unlike someone dragging long nails across a chalkboard.

            "Wait!  I can help you!"

            "Yeah, right," Jerry remarked.  "I doubt you know anything."

            "It is true," Lirenas agreed.  "There would probably be nothing but worthless ramble from you."

            "No, I do have some," she protested adamantly.  "Umm…where Hogwarts is!"

            Dudley waved off the others' look of confusion.  "It's the wizarding school, up north in Scotland."

            Cami smartly replied, "Then that's out."

            "Spare me, please!  Umm…where the wizards hide their base!"

            Dudley was beginning to have some suspicions about this demon.  How would it know so much?  "We don't need any information on wizards."

            Alyce added, "Your time is up, spare us the useless information."  Jerry formed a spear of spirit energy and was prepared to strike the demon.

            "No!  I beg of you!  I – I know where Harry Potter is!"

            _What?!_  Dudley ordered sharply, "Wait!"  Jerry stopped in mid-action, while the girls and Lirenas looked at him curiously.

            "What for?"  Lirenas seemed especially curious about this.

            Dudley ignored the question.  "You know where Harry Potter is?  For certain?"

            The demon nodded eagerly.  "Yes, yes!"

            "Tell me where he is."

            She laughed shrilly.  "He is so close!  I heard the Reapers.  They say he is in-"

            The demon never finished.

            As she collapsed to the ground, they saw a large scythe sticking out of the demons back.  Hastily retreating a few steps away from the dead body, they saw the weapon turn a lurid green.  Before their eyes, the water demon's body turned to ash while the scythe itself vanished.  Dudley didn't know what to say.  It was right there, his chance to reunite with his missing cousin, and it was gone within minutes.

            Cami then said in an urgent tone, "I feel two powerful presences!"

            "What are they?"

            "I – I don't know.  They aren't demon, but – they aren't human!"

            Alyce and Jerry looked around before stopping cold.  Alyce turned deathly pale while Jerry stuttered out, "Who are _they_?"  

            Dudley followed their gaze.  Standing on the crag above them were five figures, four of which were holding scythes.  The only man without the scythe had a swarthy Middle Eastern look to him and wore black robes that were similar to the ones of that region.  Next to him was a pretty blonde woman wearing black robes over a corseted gown and beside her was a man who wore a black turban and flowing garments.  He was plainly of Asia, possibly India.  The other two were cloaked in shadow, but he could tell one of them was a woman.

            A strong gust of wind blew and with that, they were gone.

            He saw Lirenas looking both shaken and shocked.  But his eyes held the recognition that none of the others had.  "You know who they are," he said to the demon, almost accusingly.

            "Did you not felt the shock and fear that went through you when you saw them?  Of course I know them," Lirenas replied.  "Those were Reapers, the agents of the god of death."

            Melania had unfortunately made the mistake of groaning in front of a very surly black statue.  She was sitting on the steps of the castle's hall, looking for the entire world very upset and anxious.  Her stately dark red kimono contrasted heavily with the white marble steps she now sat upon.  Just because she was a goddess and the queen of the land of the dead didn't mean that she had to always be formal.  

            "What are you so upset about?  Bet you that it's nothing."

            She sighed.  Why she kept Black Wolf around was a question she didn't even know the answer to.  "They're coming."

            "Who are?  Better not be Thanatos again.  I had enough of the little bugger," Black Wolf remarked.

            "No," Melania corrected.  "Artemis and Pandora."

            "They're just your sisters.  Fortunately, they are the almost normal ones.  What's the problem?"

            "I can't deal with them today," she moaned.  Placing her head onto her knees, she groaned.  "There's too much going on!"

            "Care to clarify?"

            "I have to deal with Pheta and the light gods, keep Tom from finding out the truth, protect Harry, judge the dead, answer ritual callings, and watch over the Dark Gateway.  All at once!  Give me some credit!"

            Black Wolf sneered, "Deal with it.  At least, Ate isn't coming.  Goddess of mischief…bah!"

            Melania sighed.  She should have expected this from Black Wolf.  "Well, they're coming whether I like it or not.  And knowing Artemis, she'll pull out the 'listen to me because I'm the older sister' card' to try to influence my decisions."

            "Here they come, are you ready?"

            "As I'll ever be."  With a quick flick of her hand, the doors of the castle of Annuvin opened.  She hated it when her siblings visited.  They tended to be nothing more than nuisances.  Artemis would be pushy in her dignified way.  Moros would be lying through his teeth and Hypnos would only drop by for a few minutes before rushing off, complaining about work and insomniacs.  Ate caused disaster through and through, which was why Black Wolf hated her.  This was because when Ate visited the last time, he was 'Pink' Wolf to his horror.  Pandora was just too optimistic for her tastes while Deimos and Phobos were…creepy.  

            Walking elegantly into the hall was Artemis.  Melania scowled.  She knew that Artemis was planning something.  _If one looked at us, you wouldn't think we were sisters_.  Melania took most after her father, Erebus of Tartarus.  Her sisters were different, resembling the night goddess Nyx more.  Artemis' pale white locks were a huge contrast to Melania's dark silver streaked hair.  Brown eyes immediately sought her blue ones out, narrowing in disapproval.  Artemis had never accepted Melania's decisions and personality.  Like the dark goddess herself, the moon goddess wore a kimono.  Hers, however, were much more ornate:  diamond crescent moons stitched on dark blue and white embroidered silk.  In a clear alto, Artemis admonished, "I see you haven't changed much in the past few years, have you sister?"

            "Why would I?  Everything is going smoothly, so I see no reason to," she countered.  

            "Really?"  Artemis glided closer.  "Then explain what has been going on then in the mortal realm.  I see as much as our mother does."

            On the banister, Black Wolf snorted.  "Don't kid yourself.  You can only see as much as the great Lady Nyx could see only when there is a full moon.  And while you do so, you cause havoc on those bitten by the werewolves."

            The moon goddess glared.  "That is none of your concern, _wolf_.  Aren't you insulting your own kind?"

            "Hardly.  Werewolves aren't real wolves.  I consider those humans who turn into them more wolf than those things.  Besides, where do the humans get the word _luna_cy?"

            Artemis said imperiously, "I have not come here to argue with a **statue**."  Turning to Melania, she said, "Do you mind explaining **what** is going on?"

            The dark goddess answered fuming, "Simple.  I'm defending my descendants from a vengeful, idiotic, self-centered, blonde-"

            "I get the **point**," Artemis interjected tightly.

            Black Wolf asked, "Why'd you stop her?  You should have let her go on.  We were about to be treated to the best line of incessant cursing and insults since Thanatos caused the Black Plague!"  He was silenced by two swift glares.

            "Anyway, Melania-"

            "Hello!"  Melania winced at the sound of the saccharine voice.  This was what would make this little family reunion extremely difficult:  the overtly dignified and formal Artemis along with her other sister. 

            "Sorry, I'm late," said Pandora gaily, practically skipping into the hall.  Beside her, Melania could hear Black Wolf start distinctly mutter angrily about 'happy hyperactive' goddesses.  "I just caught this wonderful story on the mortal news," the newcomer enthused.  "It was so inspiring!  This little boy lost his legs and through determination and-"

            "And hope, he managed to walk.  I get it, Pandora."  Melania snuck a look at Artemis, who was currently rolling her eyes.  This behavior of Pandora's was nothing new.  Her sibling was clothed in garments no doubt horribly offensive to Artemis:  a bright yellow sundress, flip-flops, and a huge straw hat topped with sunflowers.  She looked extremely out of place in the gloom of Annuvin.  Though out of them, Pandora could be considered to be the most outstanding one of them when it came to beauty.  Who could resist curly black hair, laughing brown eyes, and an infectious smile?  She was considered the most favored out of all the dark deities since she was the goddess of hope.  Though it was a good question as to how she was born to the dark gods in any case.

            But their parents had their own favorites.  And their father didn't approve of Pandora's lack of cunning or subtlety.  The same went for cheerfulness.  Exuberance and optimism were two things that didn't belong in Tartarus.  And Artemis was far too uptight in his opinion.  So, she was the favored daughter with Thanatos being the favored son.  No one knew the reason to that last one.  _I bet he doesn't even know that_.  Their mother was different.  She by far approved more of Artemis and Hypnos.

            "What did you want to talk to me about, Pandora?"  Her tone was exasperated, listless.  She was reminded of how kindergarten teachers take on an unenergetic manner when dealing with a hyperactive child.  Though the situation was not that far from the case.  

            "Yes, please tell us," added Black Wolf sarcastically, eyes narrowing.  "We have nothing better to do."  Muttering to her quietly, he said, "I prefer Miss Pompous here than Little Miss Sunshine any day.  I can at least deal with bombastic children.  Oblivious ones are much harder."

            Artemis' brown eyes flashed angrily at this, but Pandora didn't seem to notice.  Frowning, she answered, "I'm wondering what do you think you're doing."

            Melania fought the urge to just blow up the entire castle.  Was every little thing against her or did they only want to get her annoyed?  Through gritted teeth, she replied, "I'm protecting my descendants.  Isn't that _obvious_?"  Her implied threat to shut up was caught by Black Wolf and Artemis, who wisely decided not to interrupt with their own opinions on the matter. 

            Pandora, however, prattled on.  "But do you realize what's going on?  The whole wizarding community is losing hope because Harry Potter is missing!  Do you realize what I've had to do to keep them from giving up?"

            Fuming, Melania stood up with blazing blue eyes.  Pandora took a few steps back.  The castle was alive with rage; one could feel it vibrating within the very stones of the structure itself.  "You would rather have him dead just so some people could have their **hero**?  He's my descendant and I'm keeping him safe!"  Pandora's eyes were widened in terror.  Evidently, Melania could do as great a job at scaring people as her brother Deimos, the god of terror himself.  

            "Wait," ordered Artemis.  "What do you mean by 'what I've had to do to keep them from giving up'?"  Trust Artemis to catch that.  

            Sniffing, the goddess of hope said guardedly, "I allowed Sirius Black to spot him in London."

            "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"  

            Pandora never had a chance to defend her stance.  For waltzing in came the one person who with no doubt could make this state of affairs even more complicated.

            "Hello, everybody!"  In his usual black robes and jeans was the ever-affable god of death.  When he was greeted with no response, Thanatos pouted.  "Well, I see that I'm not wanted."

            "My god," Black Wolf said in fake incredulity.  "He finally figured it out."

            Thanatos only scowled at the statue before speaking again, this time seriously.  "Mel, I've got to tell you something really, really important.  I've discovered that-" He stopped suddenly.  His blue eyes landed on the visibly annoyed Artemis and the nervous Pandora.  Only Melania caught the flash of frustration and intelligence that passed in the two orbs before they were replaced by humor and mischief.  Obviously, he wasn't going to let the other two know what he wanted to tell her.  Striding forward, he enveloped Pandora in a hug, exclaiming happily, "Dora!"  When he released her, he went forward with arms open to Artemis, saying in the same manner, "Artie!"  The moon goddess or 'Artie' stopped him with a venomous glare.

This time, Thanatos scowled.  "Honestly, why do you dislike me so much?"

            "You're rude, irresponsible, and hopelessly crude."

            He smirked.  "Then why does Dad like me better?"  Melania's anger dissipated.  She knew what was coming.  It happened every time Thanatos used the 'Dad likes me more than you trick'.  Of course, he didn't know that what he was saying was true.  He only did it to annoy Artemis.  And if Thanatos pulled out the 'Dad' card, then Artemis was sure to…

            A pale eyebrow twitching, Artemis yelled out, "MUM!"

            Thanatos cursed.  "Why do you always do **that**?!"  

            If the barkeeper found the three people sitting at the counter in his tavern odd, he made no sign to show it.  But this was easily explained:  he was one of them.  Leith Maitland was a certified Reaper himself and knew these three quite well.  They had worked together often over the years.  No one guessed the man who looked quite good for appearing around fifty to have been dead for centuries.  The fourth, a man with a mane of white hair and gold eyes, had left earlier.  He had been brought up to date because of the meeting.  Raistlin Majere was a close advisor of the Lady Melania, so his information was certain to be accurate.

Fortunately, they had come during a time when he didn't not when business was slow.  Putting down several wine glasses, he poured in the violet-red liquid into each from an expensive and exclusive wine brand.  Leith rarely used it for his regulars.  Partially, this was because the year that it was made would give it away.  What normal bar would carry wine that was originally made from medieval times?  Leith prided himself on his skills as a bartender.  And the wine he had stored in the establishment's basement centuries ago with special charms was his claim to fame.  His position as a bartender in a shady part of London made it easy for him to gather information for the Boss.  They called Thanatos that for no reason actually.  It was just a tradition to.

            He himself got out a shot glass and a bottle of vodka.  As much as he liked wine, he preferred vodka.  Leith personally blamed Katya Vladmir-Tartarsky for this opinion.  "So what brings you three here?"  All of them looked tired and that was saying something for one of them.  

            Annie Kentworth was rarely, if ever, tired.  He was the one who introduced her to the job of a Reaper years ago and she had earned quite a name for herself since then.  She still carried on the fashion styles of her native times:  the 1700s.  Annie wore corsets, but she had ditched the petticoats, full elaborate skirts, and wigs in the early nineties.  He guessed some habits of the former Duchess of Caventry could never die completely.  A pretty blonde with an easy-going attitude to go with dark green eyes, Leith was amazed to see her so lethargic.  And she was wearing a dress she hadn't worn in decades since it had made her highly noticeable.  Reapers weren't supposed to be noticed.  

            The same went for Indra Mugdal, but unlike Annie, he wasn't the happy sort.  He carried a great solemnity and decorum about himself most of the time.  He was one of the few Reapers that were instated before Jesus Christ.  There were not many of them that were born before the times of the Almighty's two most famous avatars:  Jesus Christ of Nazareth and Muhammed of Mecca.  He was, however, from a time when the Almighty took the form of Gautama Buddha and was a firm believer of the Buddhist philosophy.  His turban made him stand out in the crowd and his usually enigmatic eyes were lifeless.  The former prince of an Indian empire looked very unlike himself.

            Ptolemy Shadis was barely keeping his eyes open.  Another Reaper inaugurated before the time of Christ, the former bandit looked like he was going to collapse right there on the bar.  If one saw him right now, they would never connect him to the stories of the rogue bandits that roamed across the deserts of Egypt, preying on the pharaoh's loot.  His robes were streaked with mud, signifying that wherever they had gone, it had wet.

            Ptolemy answered his question.  Years of experience had enabled him to speak many languages without an accent.  "We needed a break."

            "Really?"  This interested him.  "From what?"

            "I'm surprised you haven't heard," Annie said, taking a long swig of her wine.  "About the Descendant of Darkness."

            Every descendant of the dark gods was given a title.  But the one who own the full title of 'Descendant of Darkness' was long gone.  Lowering his voice, he pointed out, "James Potter died years ago."

            "She speaks not of James Potter," Indra countered.  "But rather of the son."

            He now understood.  "Ah.  I see.  I assume you mean the one born about fifteen years ago."

            "Correct," Ptolemy responded.  "But it is a bit dangerous to go around speaking of the Dark Prince, isn't?  So, it is better to talk about him using one that has already been known to have met their demise."

            Leith shrugged.  "I have yet to meet one other than those from the lower dark realms to know the titles of the darkness-born."

            Indra laughed harshly.  "Then why did a water demon, a pathetic one at that, know his location?"

            He paled.  "Repeat that."

            Annie complied.  "A water demon knew where he was.  According to its testimony, it heard some Reapers talking about it."

            Leith scowled.  "What kind of Reapers were those?"

            "Bad ones, obviously," Ptolemy said dryly.

            "It isn't the half of it," added Indra.

            "What else do you guys have to do?"

            "Simple," Annie replied.  "Get Sirius Black off track.  Pandora messed things up by having the Descendant spotted."  

            Leith grinned.  "So this means..."

            "Yep," sighed Indra.  "We run interference tomorrow.  Raistlin's head of operations."

            He laughed out loud.  He knew that this would happen.  "Need any help?"

            "I doubt it," Annie said.  Lifting her glass, she said, "Shall we?"

            Sharing a common smile, the three men joined their glasses with hers.  They said together, _"We of shadow and shade, those who neither are living nor dead.  Reapers eternal, we are the Knights of Death!"_


	24. The Emergence of the Phantom

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.  Also, the part about the guy asking the waitress in the bar is part of Monty Python.  I don't own that either.

***

Chapter Twenty-Four:  The Emergence of the Phantom

            "Sirius, are you positive-"

            "I'm certain of it, Remus!  I **saw** Harry."

            The werewolf raised a quizzical eyebrow.  "I don't know, Sirius.  If Harry were right there as you said, why didn't he react to you calling him?  I'm sure he would have."

            Sirius threw up his hands in exasperation.  "The woman he was with…she must've been doing something so that he didn't realize it was me."

            "Now you're grasping at straws."

            They stood on the corner of the street, both very annoyed with each other: Sirius at Remus' disbelief and Remus for Sirius going out on a limb like this.  Both were dressed in simple muggle clothing, as not to attract suspicion.  But a raving and adamant Sirius tended to draw attention whether or not he was wearing robes.

            Remus sighed.  Sure, he himself would love it if they found Harry right at this moment.  But what were the odds of him being seen in the street, right under their noses?  And if Sirius called out to the boy, why didn't he respond?  It made no sense.  The expression on Remus' face turned annoyed.  To think that he, Remus Lupin, was actually using the arguments made by Severus Snape the day before at the last meeting of the Order of the Phoenix.  As much as Remus disliked the man, he had to admit that his reasons made sense.  The rest of the Order evidently agreed with him on that point.  With a touch of chagrin and amusement, he realized that Severus had inadvertently caused Sirius to search with even more determination.  

            He decided to give up.  Sirius would need someone levelheaded to get him out of sticky situations with muggles.  Remus knew from experience that Aurors tended to not handle relations from muggles well.  He knew Moody to once have cursed a muggle's nose to the backside of his head for attempting to give him "poison".  Moody, to this day, has never touched the muggle candy Warheads again.  "So, where do we start, Padfoot?"  _I'm going to regret this…_

            This prediction was further reinforced by the smile that now graced Sirius' face.  "Great!  You do believe me!"

            "No, not really," he started.  But when he saw the gratitude practically radiating off his old friend like the heat from the sun, he decided to let it go.  "Yes, I do."  How he hated lying, even if it was for politeness or friendship's sake.

            So, they walked down the busy avenue.  Sirius was looking around carefully.  Remus recognized that the Auror was looking for familiar people.  It was a good call, but thousands of people lived in London.  The chances that someone would be there was rather slim.  Apparently, Sirius was looking for that slim chance.  

            When they had stopped, he looked up at the name of the store.  Swathes of sheer pale pink fabric were draped in the large windows.  Looking closer, he saw various skirts and shirts.  All of which that if he had a daughter, he would **never **let her wear.  The sign was in a lilac purple, pale yellow curlicues forming…          

            "I'm not walking in there."

            "Moony!  What's more important:  Harry or your dignity?"  Sirius was only met with a level glare.  "C'mon," he said, grabbing Remus' wrist and dragging him in.

            And this was how Remus Lupin – for the first time in his life – was dragged into "Girl Haven".  _I'm beginning to wonder about where my life is taking me._  Such were his sarcastic thoughts.  He could already feel his face turning crimson at the stares of the females in the store.  What was worse was when they passed the lingerie section.  He thought he would die.

            _Why couldn't Severus go through this?  I'd pay to see that. But not me, definitely not me._

            Sirius didn't seem to notice all the inquiring gazes.  He pressed on to the cash register as if nothing were wrong.  Only when they did get up to the station, did he realize that they were the objects of attention from all the shoppers.  Sirius was about to open his mouth, but Remus intervened.  They did not need the all the notice.  So he asked the cashier, "Excuse me, but do you know where the designer jeans are?  Both the daughter of my friend here and my niece need some."

            Almost immediately, were they both back into the safe arms of anonymity.  

            Sirius glared at him, but Remus just gave him a look of exasperation.  Sirius then asked the woman, "Sorry to be a bother to you, miss, but we're looking for someone.  We think you might be able to help us."

            The woman behind the counter looked at him curiously.  "I'll try.  Hopefully I can help you."  She was rather pretty, Remus had to admit.  Her nametag read 'Annie'.  Her blonde hair was swept up in an old-fashioned chignon, which he found rather odd for a cashier working in a store that sold clothing for modern girls.  Also, he noticed she wore a corseted vest.  She managed to pull the look off with style. 

            But there was something wrong with her.  He couldn't quite place it, but he knew there was something very off about her.  Looking closer, he wondered why her eyes, so cheerful, didn't look…fully alive.

            His friend didn't seem to notice.  "Did you by chance see a fifteen year-old boy around the area just a few days ago?  Messy black hair, green eyes, kind of short?"

            Annie nodded no.  "I'm sorry, but I didn't.  There aren't that many boys around this street since it's mostly boutiques and appliance stores.  I would think I would remember if a boy around that age would have walked by the store."

            "What about a woman?"  Sirius persisted, "Black hair, extremely attractive?"

            The woman's eyes narrowed.  "Sir, I think you should define your view on an attractive woman.  There are many attractive women with dark hair around.  There are also a great many pretty redheads and gorgeous blondes.  You could be a little more specific."  Remus nearly laughed at the look on Sirius' face.  Not many women would say that directly.  Imply it, but not say it right out.

            "Well…"

            "Sir, unless you have any more business, I think you should leave.  I won't let you stalk some poor woman that you saw on the street and want to get to know better.  And two, you're holding up the line."

            The two men looked behind them.  Sure enough, there was a line of five or so people in back of them, many of them impatient looking teenagers.

            "Let's go, Sirius," he said quietly.

            "But Re-"

            "_Let's go_."

            As they walked out, Sirius exclaimed, "Why did you drag us out of there?!"

            "It was getting us nowhere!  How do you even know that she was there two days ago?"

            "Simple, I saw her in the window when Ginny and Hermione walked in."

            Still unmoved, he said, "I'm sure.  Wait.  Why did Ginny and Hermione go in there?"

            "How am I supposed to know?!"

            "You were escorting them!"

            "I have my boundaries."

            Remus muttered, "I can't believe you."

"Just drop it," Sirius said.  "Let's try some of the other stores.  Maybe they know something."

            Following the stubborn former convict with a cause, he prepared himself for a long day.

            The man in the suit leveled an impressive glare.  In his raspy voice, the manager replied, "I'm sorry, sirs, but I would _think_ I or one of my staff would remember if any such persons would have entered my store.  We value our customers and make every effort to know them and their faces.  But as Mr. Shaw as told you, we do not know who these two people are."  

            Remus could visibly see Sirius' frustration.  The same emotion was also clear on the expressions of Mr. Shaw, the clerk, and Mr. Majors, the manager.  It was a good thing that the white-haired manager of the appliance store had stepped in or else Sirius and the obviously Middle-Eastern man would have gone to blows.

            "We would like you to leave."

            "But sir," Remus started, but Mr. Majors cut him off.

            "You are disturbing our customers sir.  Please leave."  

            As a result, they left.  And like the previous store, they received no clues whatsoever, even though Sirius was certain that both Mr. Shaw and Mr. Majors had been there that day.  

            But what piqued Remus' interest was Mr. Majors saying to Mr. Shaw in a low voice.

                        _"Mr. Majors?  I swear I'm going to leave this job."_

_                        "I'm Mr. Shaw, so there."_

_                        "She better be happy I'm doing this favor for her."_

            That last statement made Remus suspicious.  Could the woman Sirius had been asking about be covering her tracks?  Not for the first time, Remus thanked his werewolf hearing.  But to him, that was one of the very few perks brought about by the condition.

            Again, they got nothing.  Neither the bartender nor the waiter that spoke with a distinct Indian accent in the bar had seen a good-looking woman with a boy that had green eyes and black hair.  Once more, Sirius had been sure that the two had been there and had noticed on her.  It was a very odd bar, Remus had to admit.  Sure, the drinks were great, but the atmosphere was rather open and cheerful.  It was even more so than the Leaky Cauldron, though this was probably because of the lack of children.  He swore he heard this conversation between a raucous muggle man, obviously Hungarian from the accent, and a waitress:

            _"Will you fondle my buttocks?"_

_            "Yes…three blocks down, on the left."_

            He decided not to even think about where that one had come from.

            The waiter was very closemouthed.  He did not say a single word about a customer, claiming that it would go against the restaurant's values and principles.  It was during these trying times that Remus wished that they would be immoral for once.

            But Sirius was not to be abated.  The search would continue in his mind.  But that was before **it** happened.

            Utterly pathetic.

            That's what it thought about the wizard's little secluded shopping center.  Everything was right there with absolutely no protection.  It was like leaving a child in a pen with a tiger.

            Or more accurately in this case, a panther.

            His lip curled at the sight of them, scurrying about, purchasing and buying things of little worth.  To compensate for their inept magic, they had to use those items.  He didn't have to.  No, his element gave him all that he needed.

            It was their thoughts that made him cringe in disgust.  Their notions of equality and self-righteousness, when they themselves did not practice it, were pure hypocrisy.  If he could put up with them, why couldn't they do the same to everyone else?  Wizards were truly a prejudiced lot.  So much that he considered muggles above them.  At least, they could accept the differences and compensate for their own lack of magic through intellect and technology.  Their ability to adapt earned them his respect, though there was significantly little of it.  It was unfortunate that those wizards born to muggles did not inherit this trait.

            This Voldemort fellow, though he was a wizard, had very interesting views.  Much like Grindelwald, he proposed the elimination of those who were an insult to magic.  Of course, this included muggles, but as he noted before:  he had respect for them, but very little.  That little respect did not save them from retribution.  

            With a pang of humor, he realized the irony of the situation.  It was as if the wars of old were being renewed.  And if that were the case, then the elemental community would certainly – and of course, discreetly - get involved.  

            But they had different plans.  

            This time the wizards would know who the elementals were.  And they would fear them.  He was going to make certain of that.

            He swore it on his name.  He wasn't Keane Glynith-Vartar for nothing.  He would bestow honor onto the name of his mentor, the late Sterling "Snake" Vartar, whose surname he had added to his own.  He was the Black Panther, leader of the Suiko-Tsuki Panthers, the Panthers of the Water Moon.  And he would show them that elementals were the greatest magic users.  Also he would take revenge for the downfall of his mentor.  For the great one's sister, who switched sides, was still alive.  

            The traitor, who had led the Dragons of the Storm Skies to victory years ago, it was an insult to the name of Vartar.  The famous Sarah Vartar-Hawking, master of the Hellfire Inferno technique.  She and all descended from her would pay.

            But for now, let the chaos begin.

            It began with the earthquake.  

            Everything toppled under the strength of it.  The whole thing was unnatural.  And that mere fact would be recorded in history books, articles, and essays that would be written afterward.  It seemed like it was controlled.  And later, the wizarding world would find out that it was.

            Deep fissures that seemed to have no bottom cracked the quaint cobblestone street, wares and even whole stalls toppling into the darkness.  Bricks fell from the tops of buildings and onto the horde of screaming victims underneath.  From every building they poured out, adding to the mayhem and havoc already occurring.  Worse yet were the sounds from the wizarding bank of Gringotts.  Goblins, ever the self-preserving individuals, abandoned their white marble fortress.  Before the wide eyes of onlookers, the building collapsed with a magnificent crash.  The shaking had disturbed the pillars and caused the entire structure to fall.  The caverns beneath probably were disturbed, but the strength was greatest there in the vaults.  But there would still be no way to get anyone out from the caverns quickly, judging from the immense amount of rubble that was left of the grand bank.

            There wasn't a place in the area where there wasn't screaming.  Some brave souls tried to take shelter in the notorious Knockturn Alley.  But there it was worse.  Dark spells and artifacts tend not to react well during these sorts of situations.  Bedlam soon took over that infamous area as well.  Dark potions crashed to the ground releasing deadly poisons while dark books released the protection spells on their pages and cursed those who got ten feet near.

            But that wasn't the worst of it.

            Flames leaped out of the crevices, showering hot fire and even lava on those in the vicinity.  In addition to the cave-ins and collapses, the conflagration began to devour them as well.  It was a deadly inferno.  Nothing was left in its wake.  Even hard stone was left as nothing more.  The terror was horrifically multiplied by this new development.  The crimsons, vermilions, and golds were menaces to all that were living.  Ollivander's was truly a horrible sight.  As the fire engulfed it, the wands inside reacted.  The resulting explosion could be seen for miles and injured a great many.  The multicolored sparks and plumes burned those who ran for they traveled far.  Even those at the far side of the alley came in contact with them.  Though Ollivander himself was nowhere to be seen.  

            This was unsurprising.  Who could find anyone in that devastation?

            Violent winds began blowing from out of nowhere.  The fires were stirred up into greater fury and spread even more.  The winds blew down everything that wasn't already collapsed or burned.  Entire groups of people were blown off their feet to the ground, some even flying feet forward.  

            The wind brought rain.  This could have slowed the flames and some of those still conscious of all of their surroundings discounting the flames and cracks in the earth cheered.  The rain, to them, would help appease the fire.

            And it did fall.  Tons of it, in a great deluge, poured down on to the waylaid alley.  But the fire was not put out.  In fact, the fire seemed to not be affected by the water at all.  The water began to pool and flood the alley.  The liquid was far from cool:  it was boiling hot.  The wizards remaining ran as their feet, though shod with acceptable shoes, were scalded and burnt.  

            Only four things remained standing in the destruction; four towers the remains of what used to be thick brick walls.  Almost complete annihilation was wreaked on the once grand Diagon Alley.  And on top of those monoliths stood four figures, in cloaks of different colors and their left arms the only thing uncovered.  The one in green carried a sword of a shining metal that could not be identified and the tattoo of a black pegasus on his arm.  The one in blue, clearly a woman, carried a mace of what looked to be crystal.  Her left arm bore the mark of a black fox.  Another woman, in what seemed to be a mocking sunlight yellow, possessed a staff of a purple and dark blue substance, the mark of a black vulture on her arm.  The last, the one with the black panther tattoo, was in blood red.  Fire glinted off of the gold metal.

            As the aurors finally arrived on the scene, the four laughed.  Menacing laughs.  They echoed throughout the ruination and waste, amplifying them to an abhorrent pitch.  The aurors, who had seen much in of the destruction that Voldemort and his followers had caused, were afraid.  They had never faced off against nature itself.  You could see it in their eyes and how they trembled in the blue robes that proclaimed authority.

            They were scared.

            With another burst of manic mirth, the four disappeared in a flash of fire.  But they were not done.  The wind carried a final message clearly meant for all of the wizarding community.

            "Foolish wizards!  Did you weaklings really think you could stand against elementals?!"

            The hall was filled with harsh and hurried whispers.  It did not take one to guess what was the topic of discussion.  With the amount of destruction caused to so great a magical landmark, the pureblooded wizards were bound to be in frenzy.  Who had caused it?  How did they do it?  What on Earth happened?

            This was the scene that greeted Voldemort as he walked in.  As usual, he wore loose black robes, rich but completely unadorned.  His snake, Nagini, was at his heels.  All who were present became silent at the sight of their lord.  It did not take a vivid imagination to visualize what he would do if they did not comply.

            The hardly human – in more ways than one – and self-stylized Dark Lord sat on his throne, Nagini hissing at his side.  Looking at the assembly with stern, serpentine eyes, he asked cruelly, "Well?  Gossiping are you, my Death Eaters?"

            Many sounds of dissent filled the air.  No, they weren't gossiping.  They were discussing the great disaster that had befallen Diagon Alley.  Hadn't he heard?

            He raised his arm for silence.  "You're all very curious about it, I see."

            One death eater, young and thoughtless, exclaimed, "How can we not?!  Did you see what happened?!  There was nothing left!"

            _"Crucio!"_As the young man screamed in agony, Voldemort let a smile grace his face.  He had gotten a new wand.  This time, it was perfectly suited for his demon side.  Lady Pheta had made sure of that.  It was made of hemlock wood, from the tree that always gives such remarkable poisons, and crystallized hellfire from the chariot of Chaos himself.  Pheta had said it had been in her family for quite a while.  Ever since the death of the demise of the Sovereign by the Sword of Althelion many millennia ago and when Chaos had begun to separate himself from the affairs of the gods, in fact.  

            It made perfect sense that it would be so well suited for him.  He was after all a demon.  

            The insolent death eater fell to the floor in a heap when Voldemort lifted the curse.  He was so lost in his musings that he had left the boy under the Cruciatus' influence for about seven minutes.  He really didn't care all that much.

            "Yes, I know about Diagon Alley."

            Lucius Malfoy – he could tell who the idiot was even if his face was underneath the mask – stepped forward.  "Then my Lord, do you know of these elementals?"

            "Yes.  They are a group of people not much unlike us.  But while we draw our power from our mind and our wand cores, they do not.  They use the power of the elements, of Mother Nature herself, to do their magic."  He lied a bit about the mind magic.  Anyone who knew of the different types of magic knew that a wizard relied on the spells put in books and in the wand cores.  There were only a few who actually used their own magic and those tended to be marked with a lot of power.  Take Albus Dumbledore.  He was considered to be the greatest wizard of the age and he only used barely a sixteenth of his full potential.  But that was still much larger than the average wizard's.

            "They are our allies," Voldemort continued.  "And I would like to introduce you to their leaders."  He smirked, as the room visibly grew tense.  "There are six clans and _you had better treat them with respect_.  I hold no part in your demise if you not."

            Six figures stepped forward from the side corridor.  They were cloaked in many colors:  blood red, bright yellow, demure blue, hunter green, deep indigo, and one more in steel gray.  Their left arms were bare, displaying black tattoos of animals.  As one they stood to the side of Voldemort.  The death eaters could easily feel the disdain directed from those hooded figures.

            The one in gray spoke first.  A man's deep voice proclaimed, "I am Black Bear of the Enjuku-Ha Bear clan, Bears of the Gray Leaf.  Terris Gordon."

            The next was the one garbed in indigo, a woman.  "I am Black Eagle of the Hoshi-Hitomi Eagle clan, Eagles of the Star Eye.  Nara Barnaby."

            "I am Black Pegasus of the Ouja-Taki Pegasi clan, Pegasi of the Royal Waterfall.  Dirk Perseus," said the man in green.  

            The woman in blue said quietly, "I am Willa Ardelle.  I am Black Fox of the Takara-Tani Fox clan, Foxes of the Treasure Valley."

            With a loud voice that was full of malice, the one in yellow spoke.  "I'm Black Vulture of the Tsuta-Zeppeki Vulture clan, Vultures of the Ivy Cliff.  My name is Celestine Algernon."

            Finally, the last, which the other five seemed to have great respect for, said his piece.  "I'm Keane Glynith-Vartar, Black Panther of the Suiko-Tsuki Panther clan, Panthers of the Water Moon."  

            It was he who out of all of these strange leaders filled them with the most fear.  And the crystals as the clasps of their cloaks added to this.  Those crystals gave off a strange, unnatural feeling. 

            Voldemort finished off by saying, "These are the Phantom Elementals."

            It had taken two whole weeks to fix what that blasted god of death had done to her precious palace.  Pheta slumped in her favorite peach chair, frowning.

            So far, everything was going well.  If a bit slow, but progressing.  She had a thousand-year old revenge to take care of.

_            Voldemort had better use that wand well_, she thought.  _It took awhile for Amaterasu to take a break from watching it._  That hellfire was a treasure of the light gods.  It symbolized the beginning of the end of Chaos' influence.  Though, truthfully, she was the one who made this campaign against that part of the Great Trinity.  He was truly dark, wanting hardship and pain to exist.  His argument was that it would teach them what they needed to know at a faster rate, so that they didn't realize everything during the last years of their lives.  She would have none of that.  Pheta hated pain. 

            The Great Trinity:  the Almighty, the Universe, and the Chaos.  The three aspects that gave birth to everything.  Well, nearly everything.  The gods that had come after also had their say.  She did not know the ancient history as well as the older gods did.  Granted there were few gods at all that existed before the creation of the galaxies.

            The ancient dark gods were:  Erebus of Tartarus, Nyx the night goddess, the witch goddess Hecate, and the ever-reclusive Destiny.  Then there were the Harbingers, but they were long gone.  Their souls were scattered at the advent of humanity for a crime.  Pheta knew one had made it to the planet of Krynn, a real troublesome one as a god of magic.  The  crime had that actually shaped everything in the universe.  But she was not going to think about that.  No, Pheta would never admit that those destroyers that came from the dark had done something that profound.  She was happy that they were gone.  Excepting the Trinity and the Sovereign, they were the only ones who could kill a god.  That was when the Universe started backing away.

            The ancient light gods were much fewer in number:  the day goddess Hemera, the light god Aether, and the goddess of civilization Civila.  She grinned in a sinister fashion.  Althelion was the last of the ancient light gods, but he had…met an end so to speak.  The blood of one of the Harbingers was hard to come by, but she had managed to poison the god of truth.  Then she had taken care of the Sovereign.  But the Universe had intervened.  The sword of Althelion was on Earth now, where who knows where.  

            Now that Voldemort had the Phantom Elementals on his side, things should be getting interesting.  And she was eager to watch.

            Raistlin looked around at the destruction.  No one could see them.  They had taken care not to be known.  All this, a smoldering pile of rubble and rubbish, was what remained of Diagon Alley.  Aurors and medics wandered around, mingling with volunteers, to sift through the mess.  At times there were the jubilant shouts of a person found alive underneath everything.  But more often there was just silence as only the dead were uncovered.  Leith, Ptolemy, Annie, and Indra were there to collect the souls of the deceased here.  He had no real reason to stay.  Raistlin was neither Reaper nor anyone's servant.  He was asked a favor by a woman who he highly respected and admired.  So he had done what was asked.  Melania had promised him even greater access to the dark tomes as a reward.  This was why he liked her:  she kept her promises and was considerate.  Add in the fact that he could do as much research into the black arts as he pleased and he was happy.  "Amateur," he rasped in contempt at the scene.

            Annie glanced up at him in amusement.  "You would know, _Mr. Majors_."

            "Shut it, _Reaper_."

            "I must say you looked good in a suit."

            "I'm not even going to deem that with a response.  I'm returning to Annuvin."

            "Reporting back to Melania?"

            "I don't report back to her.  I tell her what I know.  I'm no servant, I'm her **ally**.  Difference."

            "Yeah, yeah.  But I will admit that idea of false-recognition charms was a stroke of genius."

            "Do you expect anything less of me?  Now I must be going."

            "See you later, Raistlin.  Hope you survive."

            "That has to be the worst good-bye you could give."

            "Which is why I said it."

            He looked at her with the expression of one who has dealt with one with considerably less intelligence.  Before transporting back to Annuvin, he countered back with, "And you called yourself a duchess when you were alive."

            Night looked off at London.  He could dimly a plume of smoke rising in the distance.  He wasn't sure though.  

            He had managed to climb up onto the roof of Number 14.  He knew Zylle would scold him if she found out, but for some reason, he felt the need for air.  A few hours ago, he felt a disturbance in the energies of the wind.  Also, he had sensed the presence of something…unnatural.

            When he had gotten home from training with Professor Coulter, he had found his grandmother and Hans sitting at the kitchen table pensively.  He was going to ask what was going on.  The sole reason he was home that early was because Professor Coulter had reacted to that strange energy.  But he decided not to at the last minute.  Gran was especially unresponsive.  He decided to let it be.  _ If only I could ask Zylle._  But Zylle hadn't come home yet.  When he checked her room before he managed his way to the roof, she wasn't there.  He guessed it had something to do with the disturbance.

            Night looked up at the black sky.  The moon was pure white.  The woman had said to speak to the night goddess when the moon was red.  But when would that happen?

            He traced the design on his arm.  Night had gotten the tattoo only yesterday.  There, emblazoned on his arm, was the dragon of the Arashi-Tenku.  He now bore the mark of the Storm Sky Dragon.  Since the tournament hadn't taken place yet, it was only the gray outline.  But afterward, it would reflect his rank.

            Night knew that he would enter the tournament.  And he would do his best to get in the top four, if not first.  He owed it to Zylle.

            "What on Earth are you doing up here?"

            He started and looked around.  There standing looking down on him was Zylle.  Her dark hair was as messier than it usually was and her gray eyes were tired.  She plopped down next to him.  Night noticed that she seemed exhausted.

            Immediately, he asked, "What happened?"

            Zylle sighed.  "In the morning.  We'll discuss it in the morning."

            He frowned.  This was really unlike her.  "Are you alright?"

            "No," she answered baldly.  Her gaze was centered on the stars.  "Far from alright.  But," she reached over and mussed his black hair.  Soon, it was as messy as her own was.  "Even though you are happy here, I know you want to know who you really are."

            Night didn't bother to put her right.  "Maybe…when I do find out, I can stay here with you?"  He leant his head on to her shoulder.  It felt good to do this.  Somehow, he knew that he never received this sort of attention before.

            Zylle put her arms around his thin shoulders and hugged him.  Needless to say, he was shocked at the gesture, but returned the embrace.  It felt…nice.  Like he was safe, that he wasn't going to be hurt anymore.  "I'm going to have a hard time letting you go, kiddo," she murmured.

            "I know, Mum."


	25. The Hellfire Inferno

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Twenty-Five:  The Hellfire Inferno

            "The place was decimated," said Elphias Doge, a wheezy-voiced wizard with silver hair.  "Utterly and totally demolished."

            Such was how the next meeting of the Order of the Phoenix began at 12 Grimmauld Place.  There was no need to ask what Doge had meant.  He, of course, was referring to Diagon Alley.  Just the day before, the popular and bustling wizarding center was destroyed.  Many people died in the attack, either from the disasters that occurred or from being trampled by the panicking crowd.  The Daily Prophet wouldn't be able to print for another day or so according to their two spies in the newspaper:  Ciara Corbin and Max Waring.  The building of the famed wizarding newspaper was located in Diagon Alley.

            But what caused the entire tragedy was what puzzled the group.  According to assembled Aurors who arrived all too late, there were only four people there.  Those cloaked strangers vanished, but not without mocking them.

            "Emmeline," Albus Dumbledore said.  "You work in the law-enforcement agencies of Ministry.  How was it affected?"

            A stately witch wearing a green shawl spoke.  "The Ministry all took shelter in a special warded room near the Department of Mysteries."  She sniffed disdainfully.  "Not in it, so don't anyone ask."

            Dumbledore nodded.  "Arthur?"

            "The Department of Magical Catastrophes is in a huge mess," Arthur Weasley replied.  "They're having a hard time clearing the rubble.  Every time we send a spell at debris, it is either reflected back or neutralized.  So, they have to do it manually, which they're upset about.  What's really troubling them is the Gringotts caverns:  there are some people trapped down there and the goblins are putting a lot of pressure on the top officials."  The sympathy and confusion that laced his words were clearly shown in his expression.  But Arthur was nevertheless relieved.  Bill had not been anywhere near the calamity.  Arthur was now beginning to wonder if that Wyvern Irving was psychic:  the Slytherin graduate had called Bill a few hours before saying that they needed to talk.  When Bill called later Arthur, complaining that he'd have to apologize to his superiors, he was shocked to hear about what happened.  For when Bill got to where Wyvern said to meet, there was nothing to be said.  Wyvern just nodded and left.

            Hestia Jones put in, "The whole ministry is in disarray.  Worse is that the muggles detected the disturbances."  Waving her hand at the perplexed looks directed to her, "It was on their news.  The smoke was visible for miles.  They sent out…those noisy things…fire trucks?  Well, they sent those things out since they thought it was a fire."  She shook her head.  "They couldn't find it fortunately.  But it is a major concern."

            "You're wrong," Moody interjected.  "I saw a woman there looking over the damage.  She didn't seem too surprised."

            "She could've been a witch," countered Hestia.

            Moody shook his head.  "No, she definitely wasn't a witch.  I couldn't interrogate her though."

            "Why not?" Dumbledore asked.  

            Snapping his gnarled fingers, the Auror replied, "Gone.  She walked off once she saw that she was noticed.  Disappeared after she turned a corner.  And no, there was no trace of her."

            "Well, what do we do now?"  This was asked by the seemingly youngest of the group, Nymphadora Tonks.  As a metamorphmagus, she could change her appearance at will.  The young Auror looked quite out of place with short and violently bright purple hair.  

            "We find out who these people are," growled Moody.  "That's obvious."

            "I believe Severus has some answers to that," answered Dumbledore neutrally.  "Severus?"  When the potions master didn't reply immediately, he said a bit louder, "_Severus?"_

            The aforementioned spy jumped slightly in his seat before putting on his trademark scowl.  He was evidently lost in thought.  This caused some amusement in those present.  Severus Snape was one never known to be easily surprised.  But it was only slight.  This new threat otherwise dampened the mood.

            "The Dark Lord called them 'elementals'.  He said that they were able to control magic and the forces of nature by channeling the elements."  Snape then sneered.  "Judging from what was witnessed, I see that he's right."

            "Elementals?"  Remus Lupin turned to Dumbledore.  "I've never heard of them or of that kind of magic."  Other voices in the room claimed that this as well.  Dumbledore seemed to be pondering something before returning to the conversation.

            "Neither have I, but this can be important," he replied.  "These elementals have allied themselves with Voldemort?"  As usual, he missed how nearly all of the room's occupants flinched at the name. 

            "Correct, sir," responded Snape.

            "I see…we will have to strategize with extreme caution now.  If they are able to control the elements, then what else can they do?"

            Molly Weasley sighed audibly.  All turned to look at the matron.  "This is getting so large," she answered to the unspoken questions.  "Voldemort is revived, Diagon Alley is destroyed, and…Harry is still missing."  She was clearly upset at the last part.

            "That may be, but we have to do our duty.  Am I correct in assuming there has been nothing found on Harry as of late?"

            "Not a thing," began Kingsley Shacklebolt, but Sirius Black interrupted.

            "Yes," said the former convict.  "I saw him on a street in London."  Groans and piteous sighs pervaded the room.  "It is true."

            "Right, Black," Snape scoffed.  "And did you or Lupin find anything?  I remember you coming back here with nothing."

            "As I said before," Sirius tightly said.  "He was with a dark-haired woman who evidently vanished with him.  She looked muggle, but I don't think she was."

            "Knowing you, you're just looking for a date.  And maybe Potter's right to stay where he is.  If we don't know where he is, what are the chances of the Dark Lord from knowing?"

            "For all we know, he's in more danger!  We have to find him!"

            "Sirius," cautioned Dumbledore.  "Please calm yourself-"

            But Dumbledore was soon distracted and several of those present screamed.  The curtains were ablaze and fast crumbling into ash.  A couple of potted plants and vases exploded with bright bursts of flame.  Formally dressed portrait occupants fled their frames as their canvases browned and burned.  Some of the Order members, including Dumbledore, found their robes or belongings on fire.  They hastened to put out the flames, but nothing seemed to put them out.  Only Severus Snape seemed unharmed and only his water spells seemed to have some affect on the fires, but not much.  Sirius stood up and left the room angrily.

            "Well!  I never thought I see him do that again."  A clever looking wizard wearing Slytherin colors was speaking to the Order from his unharmed portrait.  By looking at him, one could tell he was cunning and did not think too highly of the assembly.  On the frame, the name 'Phineas Nigellus' was inscribed in an elegant script on a decorative scroll.

            "What do you mean by that, Phineas?" asked Dumbledore.

            "Oh, he used to do that **a lot** before, especially when he got mad or stressed," answered Phineas offhandedly.  "In particular to his parents or his cousins.  I found it rather funny."

            "You said before."

            "Yes, before.  It stopped happening after he went to Hogwarts.  Pity, really."

            Night stumbled as Trina proceeded to drag him down the street, Bran close behind wearing an amused expression.  They were now on the Rekka-Ki's main street, Ignatius Street.  Much like Sky Lane, it was busy with all sorts of shoppers and buyers.  There was, though, a particular trend among the establishments here…

            Almost all of them were cafés or hangouts.  Night even thought he saw a nightclub and a few bars hidden away behind invisibility shields powered by the wind element.  Looking up he saw that lanterns full of different colored flames were hung up on posts.  They would make quite a sight when it was evening.  It was poles apart from Sky Lane's lighting, which used a certain kind of fog in orbs that glowed. 

            Night had never seen so many people before.  Well, none who were around his age.  Teenagers were everywhere:  sitting on benches, walking, eating, and talking, among other things.  What interested him most was that not everyone was part of the Arashi-Tenku.  He saw many with tiger and falcon tattoos mixed with those of who wore the chimera or the unicorn.  Another striking feature of the street was how everyone seemed to know each other quite well, even if they were from other clans.  Night was reminded of how Gran and Derek Montague-Hillary spoke to each other.  He guessed that the same went for Zylle and her peers.  There were other age groups present, but not in such abundance as the teenagers.

            "I can walk on my own, Trina," Night insisted.

            The earth elemental didn't pay him any mind and continued to forcibly lead him down the street.  Bran just laughed.  "I must say it's good having a third person in our little group.  My chances of being dragged down the street by an overzealous female have been cut in half."

            "Boys!  C'mon!"  They were attracting quite a bit of attention.  Night, however, was unsure whether it was because of his identity (word had gotten around) or if it was just the ridiculous sight of him being hauled to some unknown destination.  He thought he saw Pierce Rowan literally howling in laughter with two boys from the Seijaku-Shinrin Tigers.

            He nearly ran into Trina when she abruptly stopped.  "Here we are," she said cheerily.  

            It was, like most of the stores on the main streets, made of warm red brick.  Glass windows sparkled in the light of the noonday sun.  There were two levels, but it was clear only one was in use.  Night's nose picked up the smell of food wafting out of the establishment, tantalizing both his sense of smell and his stomach.  The sign, in forest green and gold, proclaimed:

THE RODRIGUEZ CANTEEN

            He had only time to note these little things before once again, his hand was taken and he found himself once more led by Trina.  A clear bell rang as they entered the building.  

            The ambience was a mix of both home charm and Spanish vivacious allure.  There were small and elaborately detailed metal tables with plenty of space around them surrounded cushioned chairs.  Near the walls were larger tables with the seats built into the wall.  Bright colors pervaded the color scheme:  blues, greens, yellows, peaches, beiges, almost every type of color were represented with style and taste.  There was hardly anything made out of wood besides the wooden paneling:  metal was obviously the material of choice.  Kids around his age wearing uniforms walked in and out of a pair of double doors in the back, some carrying empty plates and others full.  In the center of everything was a large floor area with a stereo system and stage nearby.  At the moment, a black boy with the Eikou-Taiyou tattoo was singing a good song.  Several people were dancing to the beat.

            Within moments, he was sitting at a table.  He blinked before turning to Bran seated on his right.  "How does she do that?"

            "I don't know, but let's just be thankful we aren't dragged someplace horribly.  Like a girl store or something of that nature."

            Trina smirked at the redhead.  "Are you suggesting that I do?"  She then laughed when she saw the looks of horror on the faces of the two males.  "You want to go that badly?" she added sarcastically.  Night was going to reply when he was interrupted by a woman's voice.  

            "Triana Smythe!  I'm surprised at you!  Two boys at one time?"  A jovial looking woman stopped by their table, though her tone was more of enjoyment than scolding.  She looked slightly older than Zylle did, but the faint lines on her face made her look more friendly than old.  Her dark features pointed out Spanish descent.  Pinned on the lapel of her short sleeved blouse was a pin with the writing "Owner / Manager".  Her left arm had the chimera tattoo, colored in green.  

            Smiling at him in a warm manner, she said, "Mercedes Rodriguez, Green Chimera of the Rekka-Ki and the owner of this place."  She then asked, "So, you're Zylle's boy, aren't you?"  Before Night could reply, she then said, "And here Crowley thought that there wouldn't be a Hawking leading the Arashi-Tenku for once."  

            Night's green eyes, disguised as gray, narrowed and darkened.  He most certainly did not like David Crowley.  "He really didn't hide his thoughts on that."

            Mercedes shrugged.  "I'm not surprised.  He is a good fighter – I'll give him that – but he isn't worth salt as a leader.  It's why the Rekka-Ki mostly relies on Ivan, Jeanne, or myself.  Though Ivan less since he's in Russia right now."  She looked down at their empty table.  "What you haven't been served?!  Esperanza!"  After calling out this name, she picked a spoon from off the table.  It was dented in several places, but it looked as if it were a fine piece of work before.  With a quick wave of her hand, the spoon became perfect once more.  Giving a small wave, Mercedes bustled off to another table.

            Night started, "How did she-"

            "Mercedes is a metal elemental," Trina explained.  "She can manipulate anything metal."

            "Yeah," Bran added.  "See how everything is metal here?  Before, her mother ran the place.  Everything was wood since Viviana Rodriguez was an earth elemental.  Here comes Esperanza – she's Mercedes' daughter."  

            Sure enough, a girl approached them.  She carried a pad and a pencil with her, evidently to take down orders.  Unlike the others who made rounds at the tables, she added in her own accessories to the uniform.  But Night wondered how she managed to walk around all day in those clunky knee-highs.  Esperanza strongly resembled her mother.  Night recognized her as a fire elemental and quite powerful.  Her dark brown eyes flashed with the inner fire.

            "Hello, people," Esperanza said cheerfully.  "Order anything you want.  But I suggest the Japanese or the American food today."  Grinning, she pointed with her pencil to the kitchens.  "Genji is cooking today."

            At these words, Trina and Bran brightened considerably.  

            "Hamburger and a side of fries."

            "Sushi with wasabi."

            "How can you eat that?!" 

            "I'm a fire elemental.  I can take a little hot sauce."

            As the two began to discuss their positions on the subject of wasabi, Esperanza turned to him.  "Guess you have to deal with that now?  What's your name?  You new?  And what will you take?"

            "Yes, actually."  Esperanza seemed like the kind of person who liked to talk.  Much like her mother.  "I'm Nuitari Hawking.  Just call me 'Night'.  It's easier.  And…I'll have fish and chips."

            "Nice choice.  You're the Hawking kid?"  She shook her head.  "Better just spread it quietly, I think.  Or else you'd be mobbed.  Word of advice:  avoid the Gwendolyn Hopkirks of the Kiri-Kaminari."

            Confused, Night asked, "Why?"

            "Trust me," Esperanza said.  "You won't like her.  Besides, she always goes for the cute ones."  Winking at him, she walked towards the kitchens, hips swaying.  Night was shocked.  He was cute?

            A deep voice, new to his ears, laughed heartily.  "Well.  She's direct."  Looking up, he saw the black boy that was singing before.  His ebony hair was cut short to head and he was quite tall.  He was literally wearing only logos.  Night got the impression that he liked brand-name clothing from that.  When he saw that Night noticed that, he plucked at his Nike jacket in pride.  "Official Nike.  I love brand name threads."  With a resigned expression, he said, "Lord knows that I didn't get any before.  You're Night Hawking?"

            "You know who I am?"  This was going a little far…

            "Of course, everyone knows about you," the stranger replied.  "I'm also adopted, though it was a long time ago.  Julian Wavers, water elemental of the Eikou-Taiyou, former street urchin and thief."

            Night raised an eyebrow.  "You were a thief?"

            Julian nodded.  "Yep.  I guess I did pretty well then as one.  The docks were the easiest."  He then explained, "I tried stealing from this archaeologist who just came back from South America.  Name was Aldric Barron."  Night nodded.  The guy had his own television show on the LBN.  "He was shipping Mayan artifacts to the museum.  The guy was an earth elemental and caught me before I had a chance to try anything.  It turned out that he was Red Unicorn of the Eikou-Taiyou.  Things happened and now I'm part of clan."  His unicorn tattoo was like Night's dragon one:  only a gray outline.  

            The other two seemed to have concluded their argument.  No one seemed to have won it.  "Hey Julian," Trina said, Bran looking slightly uncomfortable.  Night grinned him.  He knew that Bran didn't want to be caught arguing over something like that.

            "Hello, you two-"

            "Oy, Julian!  Give us another!"  The crowd, given a chance to take a break, now seemed eager to have Julian back on the stage.

            Julian just laughed.  "It seems I'm in demand," he said.  "I better go.  Ah…mi public."  All four laughed before Julian rushed off to go back on stage.  Night decided he liked this place.

            It was eight o'clock in the evening.  And Number 14 Zephyrus Drive was filled with people.  The house was used to this.  Over its many years, similar councils have occurred in its parlor room.  But the house was oddly reminiscent of a time not too long ago in its terms.  It remembered when fifty years ago, and for the thirteen years that followed, when these were commonplace.  Several of those who sat in those meetings were among those present in this one.  But there were only five, when before six were represented.

            All the leaders of the each clan were there; ready to discuss these new turns of events.  The Phantom Elementals' return would only mean danger to Grey Tower. 

            The Rekka-Ki's leaders:  there was not a Freely among them.  It was a shame as that family had managed the Rekka-Ki in as much of a dynastic way as the Hawkings did in the Arashi-Tenku.  Alas, Neron's Disaster ruined the family.  Now there was David Crowley, who in the house's mind would never take a place among the Hawkings.  The Russian with the pale hair and strong features was Ivan Peterson, Blue Chimera and a far better leader.  He had traveled from his home country, where he was vacationing, to attend this meeting.  Like the Lady Sarah, he was born into a Phantom-allied family.  Jeanne Flynn was also present, leaving her veterinary office early for once and bearing her famous daggers.  Mercedes Rodriguez was no surprise.  The house assumed that the Rodriguez women would always be the same in each generation, strong but very friendly.  Also among them was Derek Montague-Hillary, jeweler extraordinaire and veteran of the Phantom Wars.

            Sabrina Gordon thankfully did attract the paparazzi that normally mobbed her.  The Red Tiger of the Seijaku-Shinrin had to find it annoying.  But she was a famous actress after all.  The same went of Kareem Hussein, the Green Tiger and a diplomat for the government.  It was quite brave of him to leave his job to attend when the government was in need of his services at the moment.  But Kareem most likely assumed that he was doing his job.  The government did after all want him to help in investigating the explosions and smoke that was no doubt caused by the Phantom Elementals.  The last two were related.  Rosalinda Rivera, the Blue Tiger, was a Spanish woman who worked for a travel agency.  Her cousin, Nicodemus Alberts, now owned several successful clothing stores.  The Black Tiger had done well for himself.

            Holly McGonagall-Dorran was also present, even if she was slightly older than the rest.  She was a strong woman of strict morals who nearly always abided by the rules.  The house doubted that she ever told her older sister Minerva, a witch, about who she was because of the secrecy rule.  Serena Arlen, like those before her, was strong in her defensive water spells, but not much of an attacker.  Shy like her uncle, she was evidently nervous.  It was a pleasure having Aldric Barron inside though.  The loud and cheerful archaeologist was the foil to Serena's introverted nature.  Then there was Amity Rouge.  It could naturally be assumed from the pencil still behind her ear that she still worked in the London Times and the Grey Tower Tribune.

            If the house could smile, it would have.  Two Diamantes, both doctors of renown and ability, were present.  The two were quite alike.  Anastasius Diamante and his father both wore the mark of the Blue Falcon of the Kiri-Kaminari.  Cassius Diamante seemed to be getting old since he now needed a cane, but he still held the look of wisdom that he always possessed.  Lily Tennebaum, the Red Falcon, still carried with her the exotic scents of her floral shop.  Sylvester Morrel, despite being the Green Falcon, was a member of the Arlen family through cousinship.  He was an environmentalist and was greatly involved in preservations in Africa and South America.  Lastly, there was Katherine Langley.  The Black Falcon traveled from Greece, where she lived with her husband and where she was beginning to train various elementals of the region.  

            Finally, there were the Arashi-Tenku Dragons.  The house would only cater to those of that specific clan.  Hawkings had always been Dragons and always lived in number 14 Zephyrus Court.  Jonathan Smythe, the Green Dragon, stood admiring a watercolor painting that one of the Hawkings had brought back from a trip to China.  Then there was Mirai Alucard the Red Dragon and the veritable queen of vampires.  Someone had to take charge since her grandfather Vlad was taking a small break.  She was glancing nervously at the ever-icy Lavinia Coulter, the Blue Dragon.  Finally was the lady of the house herself, Zylle Hawking.  She looked as if she wanted to kill David Crowley right then and there.  Sarah, the former Black Dragon, seemed to share this view.  Shadow, that strange cat that the master was allowed to keep, was sitting beside the Black Dragon.  It was watching the company with intelligent and alert green eyes.  The owl, another strange animal, was perched on the back of Zylle's chair.  Like Shadow, Hedwig too seemed to be nervous about tonight's company.  Every now and then, the avian flapped her large white wings in agitation.  Hans Clayborne, the past Blue Dragon, seemed far from his usual jolly self, for he was staring out the window distractedly.  

            Yes, it was going to be quite a meeting.

            Lavinia Coulter then spoke, condescending as usual.  "Are we just going to sit here or are we going to get something done?  I have a potion brewing at home that I want to return to."

            Zylle sighed.  "Vinny, I think we all have things to do."

            "I'm sure.  Don't call me 'Vinny'."

            "Moving on," Holly said in a stern tone.  "How do we know the Phantoms are truly back?"

            "I saw the damage at the wizard alley firsthand," replied Zylle.

            Mirai shook her head.  "I passed by on my way from work.  Only elementals could have done that damage.  And we aren't the type to just attack wizards out of nowhere."

            "They're Phantoms alright," Cassius interjected.  "Same type of aura, same type of technique.  They're back."

            Crowley then said mockingly, "So?  We know that.  Do you think it's Grindelwald again?  What do you think, _Hans_?"  

            Several objections to this question came from the assembly.  Hans just scowled.  "Adlar is dead, youngster.  And if you mention that ever again, I'll show you how I claimed the position of Blue Dragon."

            "I figured that you might considering that you were-" 

            Ivan Peterson said with a slight Russian accent, "That is enough, David."  At the glares of all those present, Crowley backed down.  And no one wanted to anger Ivan Peterson, who though had amazing self-control, wasn't one to be trifled with. 

            "It's obvious what we have to do, isn't it?" Kareem said.

            "Of course," Katherine responded.  "We have to take out the threat.  Simple."

            "But it can't be that easy," persisted Zylle.

            Sabrina nodded, "They would not have attacked like this without knowing we were try to intervene.  There has to be a reason."

            Sarah then said, "Well, there was Grindelwald before…"

            "Yes…they must have a new wizard backing them up," concurred Derek.  "I bet it's that Lord Volde-whosits that the wizards have been scared of."

            "Do we have a back-up plan of our own?" asked Mercedes.

            "When do we ever?" sneered Lavinia.  Zylle gave her a warning glare while Mirai rolled her eyes.

            "Then let's move up the tournament."  Everyone turned to Jonathan Smythe when he proclaimed this.  The artist was still scrutinizing the Chinese watercolor, but seemed quite alert to the meeting.  "If we move up the tournament, then the younger kids could get used to their leaders ahead of time.  If war does arise, then not only would the leaders be ready, but also the others."

            "We'll be breaking tradition, though," Serena added cautiously.  "We've never had an early tournament in the history of the elemental clans.  Some of the members might not agree to this."

            "Then let them be upset," Sarah said violently.  "If they had enough sense, they have not left their training to the last minute.  I bet Nuitari could beat plenty of them in a duel and he's only had a few weeks!"

            "That one month could make all the difference," put in Hans.

            "We'll vote on it," Jeanne decided.  "Majority wins."

            The house was amused, yet nervous all the same.  War.  It hated war.  And it felt that the young master was in the center of it.  It started to pay attention again as the babble started up again.

            "14 out of 20 for the tournament."

            "When will it be held though?"

            "Next week."

            "You can't be serious!"

            "It makes sense!"

            "No!  At least two weeks!"

            "Fine!  Another vote!"

            There was a small pause.

            "11 out of 20 for next week."

            "Oh, wait 'til everyone hears about this…"

            The house had to agree.

            Night raised an eyebrow.  "You lost me."

            "I figured that.  You were giving me this look that reminded me of a startled rabbit," replied Tom crisply.

            "You've seen a startled rabbit?"

            "Yep," Tom said gravely.  "It was in my second-year Charms class.  The professor was making fun of muggle magicians and their illusion tricks.  To make fun of them – yes, he did not like muggles too much, head of Slytherin actually – we had to pretend to pull a rabbit out of our hats."

            "And…"

            "I succeeded in pulling up out of my hat by the ears, a very surprised rabbit."  Tom scowled from his position in the mirror.  "A week's detention for supposedly _mocking_ the teacher.  No points lost though."

            Night was talking to Tom via the mirror, though it was enlarged.  As usual, he was sitting on the bed, wand to the side, listing to the lecture and theory first.  Thankfully, Tom did not bore him with tons of facts.  Only the important parts were covered.  If Night wanted to know more, then he would ask after the main lesson.  He found it easy to remember when Tom taught him.  The man wasn't particularly hard and gave hints to how to remember certain spells.

            It helped that Zylle and Gran were distracted tonight.  He could go to sleep at a decent time.  But he couldn't help but be curious.  Zylle did explain to him what happened:  a wizarding area had been annihilated by what were obviously elementals.  From what she knew, Zylle thought that the Phantom Elementals were back.  She wasn't sure, but there was no other explanation of what happened.  No clan of Grey Tower, or even of the remote ones in other areas of England or the world, would do that.

            "But I didn't think wizarding magic and elemental magic could-"

            "Understandable.  If wizarding magic did hit elemental magic, then it would most likely be neutralized or reflected.  Elemental magic is power directly coming from nature itself while wizarding magic is indirect.  It is possible for you to use both, since you are both wizard and elemental."

            "How did I end up like this?!"  Night threw himself backwards onto the bed.  "It isn't normal!"

            Tom chuckled.  "Of course, it isn't!  We have it tougher than everyone else.  It's basic survival of the fittest.  A principle that muggles discovered but some wizards can comprehend.  We need to live, so we adapt."  He then turned thoughtful.  "I do know a little of your parents…but not much."

            Night lifted himself into a sitting position once more.  He asked, "Really?" 

            "Yes, but as I said, not much.  Your parents were strong wizards.  Both had elemental ability – powerful strength - but they never used it.  They never knew actually.  Your mother was a fire elemental while your father was a wind."

            "No wonder.  Can elemental magic be neutralized or reflected?"

            "Yes," Tom answered.  "It's really quite difficult.  All the types of magic have a weakness in some areas.  I'll give you a brief overview later.  Now, for this again…"

            "Listening.  Again."

            "It's creating a shield of wizarding magic."

            "Tom, I don't think I'll be needing that here in Grey Tower."

            "I'll explain later.  Stand up and just cast the spell.  _Aegis magus_."

            "_Aegis magus_."  He picked up the wand and did the required wand movement.  A dome of silver magic surrounded him.  If Night looked carefully, he thought he could see little streaks of green and black in its makeup.  He tapped it with his finger experimentally, but it went through.  "I don't think it worked."

            "It did.  This shield spell is much more powerful than the normal kind.  Nothing can go _in, but things can go __out.  That's where your elemental magic comes in.  Use your elemental magic to add more strength to it.  Not much though.  Water and fire tend to make great shields by themselves, though wind and earth ones do suffice.  But we aren't talking about that"_

            Night complied and the shield took on a reddish hue from the fire magic.  In truth, it looked like it might burn anything it came in contact with.  He thought he heard the slight humming that signified a large concentration of magic.  "I assume this will shield me from elemental attacks while I can retaliate with my own elemental magic."  

            "Exactly.  No stress on your elemental magic.  It's a good trick.  I wouldn't recommend it during the tournament though."

            "Why?"

            Tom looked sort of sheepish.  "Elementals, as you know, really don't have too high of a regard for wizarding magic.  And the tournament is meant to weed out the strongest of each clan to be leaders.  That means _elemental magic only, kiddo."_

            "That sucks.  Really sucks."

            "No kidding.  But you mastered that anyway.  Could come in handy during sometime or the other."

            "I'm sure."  Night ended the spell and sat back down on the green coverlet once more.  "You were talking about other types of magic."

            "There are plenty of types," Tom said.  "I think there are nine:  muggle, wizarding, elemental, purity, spiritual, blood, command, dark, and chaotic.  All most all of them have their own type of user in the world."

            "Go back to muggles.  They have magic."

            "I did say almost all of them," Tom responded.  "They really don't have that many users.  You could say that they adapted to it.  They only use it during emergencies.  I believe that they call it 'adrenaline', but I'm not too sure."

            Tom then stiffened before looking to the side.  Night couldn't hear what the other was saying but Tom evidently didn't like it.  "Fine," grumbled the older wizard.  "I have go.  Apparently, the Lady wishes to see me.  Can't deny that."  He snapped his fingers and a piece of paper fluttered out of midair to land next to him.  "If you want to know more about the types of magic.  Read that.  Very informative."  With that and a final wave, Tom vanished.  The mirror shrunk to the size of his palm before floating and then landing on the soft bed.  Shrugging, Night picked up the paper and began to read.  He had nothing else to do.

Types of Magic:  Centuries ago, the goddess of magic divided up the different types to make things both simpler and less likely that a magic user could be atrophied.

            -_Atrophy- _the condition in which certain kinds of magic when practiced by one person could devour them.  Very few individuals do not suffer from atrophy, those including descendants of gods.

            Often these types are divided further into more specific sects within them.  Some, but not all, of which are listed.  

1. **Muggle**- Muggles cannot access this directly.  Due to evolution and conditions around them, they can only use this during extreme events or emergencies.  It is often shown as an increase in the person's reactions, thought, and physical ability.  Other practioners can access it, but muggles by far surpass this in usage.  Muggle scientists have classified it as 'adrenaline'.  They are kept mostly in the dark by the magical community, but they do sometimes have marry and have children containing magic.

2. **Wizarding-** This power is gained by accessing the magic energy of a substance and focusing it to do a task.  The tool is usually a wand, where the magic energy is stored.  Users must, however, use a bit of their own magic to access and direct it.  It is looked down upon by other practioners because of its limitations.  As such, wizards tend not to know of the other kinds of magic.  _Sects:_  wizards, witches, and sorcerers.

3. **Elemental-** This type grants power to its users through nature.  Those who possess it often have power over one or two elements specifically.  It is through nature that all their magic is accomplished: from battle to transfiguration (called metamorphosis).  Both the magic of nature and the natural magic of the person are accessed and are used in balance.  Werewolves are classified under this because they react to the magic of the moon, a part of nature.  _Sects:  _elementals, adepts, Calystrian monks, elves, and werewolves.

4. **Purity-** This magic can only be used for healing purposes.  It involves using good intentions and the will for something to live to heal.  This could work on either live or nonliving things.  Users of this type usually have a love of learning and often go out into the world to help those in need.  _Sects:  {true} healers, revivers, aesclepians, the priestesses of Amaterasu._

5. **Spiritual-** A type of magic that could be practiced by all magic users.  It involves using magic and power derived from the body and soul to influence the environment.  It is characterized by a white-blue energy, but spirit energy could also be used to gain access to other types of magic.  Often those who possessed this can see auras and sense presences.  Demons use the magic a lot.  Some elementals with the gift manage to see the future by combining it with their own elemental magic.  _Sects: _ demons, spiritualists, psychics, mediums, seers, and diviners.

6. **Blood-** The purest form of magic of all living creatures.  In a twist of irony, it is most often those who are not living who can use it to its full potential.  Inside the blood flows the magic and life of a being.  This contains great power.  Those who can use it often have increased physical and magical abilities.  However, blood magic is viewed with caution as many dark wizards use it in their ceremonies.  _Sects:  _vampires, ritualists, and blood mages.

7. **Command-** This is to be used with the greatest of caution.  Command magic is using the power of both will and the soul to control and command things.  It could be to appear as someone else or to control a person.  Sometimes wizards see those with a slight gift in this as 'wandless magic'.  In its true form, a command magic user could hold sway over everything in his or her immediate area.  It is very difficult to master and is not widely known.  _Sects:_  masters, shamans, and war mages.

8. **Dark-** Widely misunderstood by the other types, dark magic is not as so-called 'dark wizards' paint it out to be.  Those wizards use their magic to hurt, but it is still classified as wizarding.  True dark magic is controlling the darkness, shadows, and the power of the dead.  Not many practice this type, as the risk of atrophy is higher than in the others.  But those who do master it are quite powerful.  _Sects:  necromancers, Reapers, hecatians, and dark justices._

9. **Chaotic-** The strongest type of magic out of all nine.  Most cannot even attain the level needed to practice it.  Chaotic magic can only be accessed by one who truly knows who he or she is.  When it is accessed, the power is incredible.  Often, it is called the 'magic of the gods'.  But the gods usually use a much higher and potent form of it.  _Sects:  Chaos Sorcerers and Soulseekers._

            "Okay," Night said out loud to the other two occupants of the room.  Hedwig was sitting on his shoulder and Shadow in his lap.  Both animals wandered in while he was reading.  They too seemed to be enthralled by the information on the paper.  "Apparently, there's a lot magic in the world."  Even he admitted it was a grave understatement.

            The early morning street was deserted.  Night didn't know why he was outside.  He just had the feeling that he had to be there.  Throughout the entirety of last night, he felt it.  The haunting feeling, a pulsing feeling, was of having to be somewhere and fast.  Night struggled against it, but in the end relented to the tug.  It was too strong.  

            So he had gotten dressed in the early hours and quietly exited the house.  He, of course, left a note to Gran and Zylle just in case he was late.  The sun cast a gray, bleak light.  It was to be dismal day, judging from the color of the clouds and the way the winds blew.  The air carried a cold that was definitely not something to have in late August.  And Night doubted that it was a water elemental doing some early morning practice.  Also, he wondered why it was so hard to move…it was as if something were holding him down…

            There he stood, near the center of Aiken-Quincy Park, very close to the place where Zylle had found him unconscious.  Night didn't even know why he dressed the way he did.  He wasn't going to be training while he was out.  Yet he pulled on comfortable black jeans, his sneakers, fighting gloves, and a green tanktop.  Instead of glasses, he put in his gray contacts.  In the dim dawn light, he could vaguely see the outline of the Arashi-Tenku dragon on his left arm.  He was pleased to say his arm wasn't as skeletally thin as it was when he woke up.  It looked like he was finally gaining a bit of muscle.

            Hedwig and Shadow were nearby.  He didn't know why they didn't come out like they usually would, but there were very close.  And from what he could feel of their presence…angry at something.

            "So, you showed up!  I'm impressed!  I thought that a Dragon, especially a Hawking, would have run for their lives!"

            He glanced up sharply at the sound of the mocking voice.  Already, he despised the individual.  The speaker's – an obvious elemental - aura was a water one, powerfully bright blue.  But it disgusted him.  It felt wrong to him, dirty and unnatural.  The quality was lost and was so twisted, that it no longer resembled the element.  It was like comparing the most worthless iron to the purest gold.

            Sitting by the fountain in the middle of the park, was someone who looked a few years his senior.  His sneering face and slimy smile distorted his good-looking features into a visage of repugnance.  His attire was almost exact to his, but where as Night had green and black, the stranger wore blue.  Even the cloak the other wore was blue. 

            Night demanded, "Who are you?  And what do you want?"

            The stranger just smirked.  "I'm Ian Harlan."  Slowly, Ian showed his left arm, which was covered by the cloak.  There was a tattoo:  a panther, colored in black.  "Black Panther of the Suiko-Tsuki."

            "Phantom," Night replied contemptuously.

            "Yes."  The smarmy smile grew.  "So you have heard of us!"

            "I could tell by just looking at your aura," he accused.  "I wonder how you can access your water element if its that corrupt."

            Ian just laughed, reddish-brown hair falling into brown eyes.  "Corrupt!  It is power!"

            "I really don't see it.  I've felt stronger auras from muggles!"

            He stopped laughing and scowled.  "You'll pay for that."  With a flash of blue light, Ian now held a blue broadsword in his hands.  The weapon was not as it should be:  it was a murky, almost muddy blue.  Ian charged forward in what Night recognized as a slash attack.  He prepared to jump and fly.  If he were in the air, he'd have the advantage.

            There it was, only a few inches away, his feet left the pavement…

            But returned with a crash.  And just in time for the slice of water blade.  Night was flung backward hard into a tree.  He was slightly dazed both from the impact and the force of the assault.  _What happened?  Why couldn't I fly?_

            "I'm afraid you won't be getting into the air, Hawking," Ian derided.  "It's a known fact that Hawkings tend to be wind elementals, so I made sure that you wouldn't get an advantage over me.  It's too bad that you don't know any of the techniques of the Suiko-Tsuki.  And your grandmother, the former Red Panther herself, was the master of the legendary Hellfire Inferno!"  Night stood up groggily, the world still slightly spinning.  He thought that the shining amber jewel in the ground had moved much faster than it should.  And it shouldn't be moving.  _Wait…jewel?!_  He bent to pick it up, but it was far too heavy.

            Ian laughed once more, an annoying laugh that rang in the ears and irritated all who had the misfortune of hearing it.  "I've seen you found my helpers in this little duel!  Those are concentrated jewels of concentrated earth magic.  They've increased the gravity somewhat.  Not to mention, they're suppressing the wind energy around us."  Another smirk.  "You won't be flying anytime soon.  And now…" Ian charged again, blade brought up in the slashing position once more.  Night had to think fast.

            Blue struck red metal so hard that sparks flew.  The crimson glaive that Night now held parried Ian's blue sword.  It had taken him a bit of time, but Night had managed to get Gran to teach him how to summon fire weapons.  Gran's technique, though versatile to any weapon, was best utilized with a staff.  Better yet a glaive.  The scarlet metal was streaked with orange and even white.  The blade at the end was a colored gold, wickedly sharp in the gloom of the first light of day.

            "So, you can use another element?!"

            "I'm not just a wind elemental!"  Both broke apart from their struggle of strength and jumped away from each other.  Ian made a show of making an elaborate flip and then doing a complicated sword movement.  Night just jumped back and brought his glaive up in the ready position that Gran had taught him.  

            She said when he first started training with a normal one that it would be difficult for him.  His light frame and strength would hinder him.  But she said that he had to build his speed up while learning how to use what strength he had to his advantage.  When he summoned his fire glaive for the first time, it was suited to him perfectly: weight and balance flawless.  Gran herself had been impressed by it.

            Ian once again sneered.  "Don't think you can win.  You may have some tricks, but they're no use against a water elemental!  _Aqua Blast!"_  With this last statement and a swing of his sword, a torrent of water came directly at him.  Night quickly summoned a water shield, but it was difficult.  The same element attacking each other was always hard to counter.  But Night had no choice.  Earth and fire would have a disadvantage and his wind magic was weakened.  He leaned a bit on his glaive once the attack ended, slightly weakened.

            "Still standing?"

            Night yelled, "Of course I am, you moron!"  He would have loved to use much more "appropriate" language.  But he thought it a bit early to start screaming expletives.

            "Well, then try this!  _AQUA CANNON_!"  Again, another water blast, but this time it was much stronger.  It was too strong.  His water shield wouldn't take it.

            _I need something to shield me without weakening my elemental magic!_

**            _Aegis magus…exactly…no stress on your elemental magic.  It's a good trick…_**

His wand, the wand given to him by Tom, was in his back pocket.  Night whipped it out and cast the spell that the wand's former owner taught him.  "_Aegis Magus!"  He then added what little wind energy he had left.  The water was coming ever closer…_

            It never hit him.  The silver shield of wizarding magic with the tints of dark gray and blue of the wind held strong against the vicious assault.  Dimly, through the clear water, he could see the look of shock that graced Ian's face.  Night couldn't help but grin.  _Wasn't expecting that were we?  __Now, I just need an attack…what did Gran say?_

            **The Hellfire Inferno itself is the strongest attack the Hellfire Inferno technique has.  If you try it out now, it won't be as strong as it could be.  But it will nevertheless cause a great deal of damage to even a fully trained elemental of any type.**

            If Night were a cat like Shadow, he would have purred.  Focusing all the fire energy he had into the glaive, he spinned it once.  Already, a ball of powerful fire energy was forming at the tip of the gold metal.   He brought it down sharply, the blade directly aimed for Ian.  _"Hellfire Inferno!"_

            The sphere went forward past the shield and right into the water.  Instead of going out, the water evaporated into white steam as it came contact.  As soon as all the water was gone, it burst, releasing the flames in a mass conflagration.  All this at Ian Harlan.  White and red flames surrounded the area, searing the cool air that Ian and the early morning had brought.  Even Night blocked his vision from the onslaught.  The light the fire gave was intense.  

            When it all ended, Ian collapsed to the ground.  From what Night could see of the water elemental, his cloak and a majority of his clothing were charred.  He even thought a bit of Ian's hair was singed.  As he took a step towards his fallen opponent, a fireball stopped him in his tracks.

            "I see you did quite well there."  A man with a red cloak jumped in front of Ian from out of nowhere.  Fire elemental, from what he could sense, with the same taint.  But he was obviously older.  Looking at his left arm, there was the same black panther tattoo that Ian had.  Night couldn't see the older man's face, but could sense some sardonic humor from his tone of voice.

            "Who are all you people?!  What do you want?!"

            "Keane Glynith-Vartar," answered the fire elemental.  "Black Panther of Suiko-Tsuki Panthers.  As for what we want, that is simple:  the cleansing of the magical world and our revenge on the residents of Grey Tower.  Your family especially."

            "What?!"

            "You don't know?"  Keane tsked.  "You should pay more attention to history, child.  Hawking is it?  Nuitari Hawking?"

            "Don't lecture me," Night responded, anger barely veiled.

            "No matter." Keane picked up Ian as if he were a rag doll and flung the unconscious teen over his shoulder.  "Stupid child.  He got beaten by a Dragon," he muttered.  Turning his attention back to Night, he then said, "Give my regards to your grandmother, child.  Tell her the Panthers have returned.  There is no need to say the same to your mother.  I believe that we will be meeting shortly.  Goodbye, Nuitari."  With that and a flash of flame, Keane and Ian were gone.  

            Night collapsed to the ground where he stood, looking at the spot where the two vanished.  A flutter of wings landing at his shoulder and something furry rubbing against his hand brought him back to attention.  Both Hedwig and Shadow were there, looking at him with concern.  "I'm fine, you guys.  Don't worry."  The animals didn't seem to think so, but did not object.  He gingerly got up and with his two familiars, made his way back to Number 14 Zephyrus Court.  Hopefully, he would get in before Zylle or Gran was up.  The fuss, they would make…

            _Ten minutes later…_

                        A scream.  Then, a shout of mixed anger and concern.   "NUITARI HAWKING!"

            **That was productive.**

            _Sure it was.  He got hurt.  That's real productive._

            **Don't get smart with me.  We could not prevent what happened.  And he would have sustained worse injuries if we didn't intervene.  You have much to learn, Kardis.**

            _Right.  You keep telling me that._

            **Because it is true.**

_Just because I'm not older than this planet…_

**Yes.  Now silence.  We need to be there for him.**

            _And as I said before, White Owl, we failed right there._

            **No.  He defended himself.  We may feel obligated to protect him, but he must learn to defend himself from danger.**

            _I have mixed feelings about that_.  

            **I'm sure you do.**

            _Good side is, I killed that demon._

            **You could have been less…messy.**

            _How so?_

            **For one thing, not clawing his eyes out and slashing his throat would have been an excellent start.**

NOTE:  Sorry for the delay.  Things have come up.  I'll try to get a review page up as fast as I can.  But for now I'll have to leave you with the chapter.  Remember the double one I promised?  This is it.  On average I type six pages, font 9 type.  This is 12 pages long.  Thanks to everyone who's read and please review!

_-Raven Dragonclaw_


	26. Stardust Requiem

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Twenty-Six:  Stardust Requiem

            Zylle glared at nothing in particular on her way home from work that evening.  Work at the station was exhausting on a whole, but with what was currently happening around her made it much more grueling.  It seemed like the entire world was now just readying itself for destruction on a large scale.

            First, there was Nuitari.  Zylle frowned in worry.  The boy had nearly frightened her out of her wits showing up the way he did that morning.  It wasn't the fact that he was out that early in the morning that scared her, though she did scold him on that.  It was what occurred.  Her son – yes, _her_ son – was directly challenged by a Phantom elemental, an experienced one at that.  It was true that she was immensely proud that he had won the fight, but there was still the fact that he could have been seriously hurt.  And heaven help anyone who hurt him.  Lavinia had called later in the day.  The Blue Dragon just smiled when she heard that her "protégé" had succeeded, but then nearly dragged the boy off to learn more about fighting against water elementals.

            Then, there were these Phantom elementals.  Now, she knew for certain they had returned.  But what did they hope to achieve by taking out those "unworthy" of magic?  The Phantoms never made any sense.  Her mother was extremely pensive at the moment.  Zylle had rarely seen her mother get angry.  But now…she assumed that Sarah was preparing herself once more to fight.  The fact that her old clan had attacked her grandson made her even more determined.  Hans also seemed to be getting ready for the worst.  Over the past few days, the wards around Number 12 Zephyrus Court were strengthened quite a bit.  Actually, it was happening all over Grey Tower.  She was even in discussion with the other leaders about increasing Grey Tower's already impressive ward system.  It had been weakened after the wars, but the Black Panther's intrusion into their territory had been an alarm bell for them.  Once the new and improved wards were in place, no Phantom would be able to penetrate Grey Tower Town.  It was scheduled to be done before the tournament.  There was no need to give the enemy an advantage by seeing how they fought.

            Sighing, she looked up at the sky, clouded over with the smoke and illuminated with the bright lights that was London.  It truly was a pity that the stars could not be seen.  Zylle had the feeling that they would help ease her mind.  Everything was coming down on her all at once.  She had doubts that she could handle it all.  

            "Well, well.  The Black Dragon walking down the street all by her lonesome?  Do you by chance need some company, my lady?"  

            Startled, Zylle turned her attention away from the sky and back to the street.  Her gray eyes narrowed.  The red cloak and cocky voice was enough to alert her.  But the Black Panther tattoo on the man's left arm was a clear sign of who was confronting her.  A muscular arm pulled back his hood, showing a proud face with pale features.  A long scar ran down a thin cheek and fierce brown eyes glared back at her.  Fire elemental, who was about an impressive foot taller than she was.

            "I feel no need to say which clan I am from, so I'll save you that," he mocked.  "I am Keane Glynith-Vartar."

            Readying herself in a defensive stance, she replied scathingly, "I'm Zylle Hawking."

            "Yes, I met your son just this morning.  You've done a marvelous job with him.  He beat down one of my clan's best fighters.  Though I do have to admit that Ian did not do well to underestimate him."  Zylle then heard him mutter under his breath, "Stupid child."

            "What do you want?" she challenged.

            Keane raised a blond eyebrow.  "Other than the cleansing of the magical world?  Your demise, of course.  You are an insult to the Vartar name."

            "Really?"  She then countered, "I would think that you _taking_ the name of 'Vartar' was enough to make my ancestors roll in their graves.  Just because my wonderfully deceased uncle thought what he thought didn't mean all Vartars do."

            Vartar.  That name had hung over her for so long.  Though she was lucky.  Her father's family had taken off most of the weight.  It had taken her mother a while to convince the other clan members of the Arashi-Tenku that she wasn't a spy for the Phantoms during the wars.  It was common knowledge that the Hawking family originally forbade her father from marrying her mother from that.  The Vartar family of Suiko-Tsuki Panthers was among Grindelwald's most loyal supporters.  Very few in the family had stood up to this belief, those including her grandmother, her dead aunts, and a few cousins.  Sterling Vartar was the worst out of the lot.  Her mother's younger brother, he killed many with a vicious ruthlessness.  If not for him, the population of the elementals probably would be three times as large now.  The Hellfire Inferno, revered as the strongest fire technique, was seen with fear now and only her mother was the known practioner.  Zylle herself knew it, but rarely used it.  But still, the name of Vartar was forever stained with the blood of innocents from the Phantom Wars.

            Keane scowled at her, evidently insulted by that.  Zylle shrugged it off.  She had meant to do that.  "You'll pay for that slur on the Vartar name."  The fire elemental unsheathed a sword made of gold, a fire weapon.  Zylle, in a moment of random thinking, was happy that she decided not to wear her usual business suit for the day and foregone instead for jeans.  Actually, it really wasn't much of a decision on her part.  She had scolded Night for so long that she was late for work.

            "I don't see how I'm slurring it," she quipped.  Summoning two wind Japanese wind swords perfect for her, Zylle added, "I thought that there was enough filth on the name already."

            It was almost like those American western showdowns.  An empty street, the dust swirling around the feet of the two combatants ready to duel.  But there were differences.  There would be no guns or ammunition.  Keane was no ordinary villain and Zylle was no sheriff.  And they weren't in the sultry desert town, but in the middle of London's urban sprawl.  This wasn't a cliché movie.  This was life.  And in life, there was no guarantee of the side of good winning.

            Zylle made the first move.  Summoning her swords was a bluff.  Concentrating, she made a huge blast of wind forcefully propel Keane forward, making him lose his balance.  It seemed to have worked, but the Phantom quickly regained his composure and rolled out of the way when she sent a slice of wind at him.  When he got out of it, he sent a powerful plume of flames her way.  It wasn't that hard to dodge for the attack, though immense in its ability to damage, was slow.  A wind elemental's greatest advantage was speed and the ability to move and think quickly.  Zylle smirked at his underestimation of her.

            But that was before she felt the cold edge of a blade at her throat and an arm around her waist, restricting her movement.  Keane was standing behind her.  She cursed mentally herself.  And she was thinking that he was underestimating **her**?!

            She could tell he was satisfied.  Why else would he detain killing her?  Why not get it over with?  He was stupidly giving her time to formulate and enact an escape out this.  Keane drawled, "So, this is how the Black Dragon fights?  I expected much better from the infamous Zylle Samara Hawking, 6th class wind elemental."

            _Thanks for buying me time!_  "No, actually.  You see, I thought you just had empty space in between your ears.  I wasted my time trying to manipulate the air in there to make your head explode."  With that, Zylle head butted him making him lose his grip on her.  Then she took advantage of his loosened grip on her to give him a strong electric shock before sharply in the stomach before giving him a spin kick to the side.  He staggered after the blows, but remained standing.  Zylle was pleased to see his nose dripping with blood.  And his movements were weak and sloppy.  The shock had done its job.

            Nevertheless, Keane charged forward with his blade.  Zylle immediately brought up her two blades in a cross to counter.  But he far surpassed her when it came to physical strength.  She was pushed back as he forced more pressure.  This was similar to how she trained with Night, but there she was the stronger of the two.  Grimly, she saw the gold of his flame blade start to glow a hot red, emitting a sweltering heat.  _It's a long shot…_

            "That was a nice trick, I'll give you that," Keane growled.  "But I won't let myself be tricked by you again."  The heat from his sword increased.  _It's now or never_.

            Almost so fast that they seemed like blurs, Zylle's swords spinned in a circular motion in her hands before crossing once more.  A tornado of wind began to form around them.  Dimly, Zylle registered that they had to move quickly.  Lights were coming on in the nearby buildings.  Trash bins were rattling and toppling over and a few pets started make a riot.  Then she used what control over fire magic that she had to absorb some of Keane's fire attack into her own.  A sphere of wind energy formed at the intersection of the three swords, glowing a flame red as fire energy began to seep into it.  Zylle then forced the high power energy towards the surprised Keane.

            Her opponent was flung backwards with an explosive bang right into the tornado, which added even more damage.  Finally, he was sent out of the buffeting winds before landing – in a twist of poetic justice – in a rubbish pile.  Keane opened his mouth to speak before cursing.  His gaze was not focused on the dark-haired Black Dragon though.  No.  It was towards some one behind her.  Quickly, she made her swords vanish and half-turned so that she could see the newcomers while not keeping her back to the dangerous Phantom elemental.  Zylle really didn't need to.  With a flash of fire, Keane left the area.

            The intruders were wizards.  Aurors, if one wanted to be specific.  Derek Montague-Hillary's niece was one of them herself, so she knew.  Unfortunately, the girl wasn't there.  The group looked at her with communal apprehension and…fear?  From what she understood of wizards, they would immediately attack and question her.  But this group didn't want to even get near her.  The hands holding the wands pointed at her were shaking.

            "What's going on?!"  A handful of wizards (those being in the back of the little cluster) and Zylle were alerted by the authoritative male voice that seared the tense atmosphere.  A good-looking man with clear blue eyes and long hair tied in a ponytail pushed his way through the crowd, standing out in flame-red wizard robes.  He didn't have to put much effort into it.  The wizards made way for him.  This new wizard looked a combination of stressed and annoyed.  Zylle couldn't blame him.  If she were the leader of this Auror squad, she too would be angry.

            The one in front and evidently the one most scared of her just stuttered out, "E-el-e-."  The man couldn't manage to say what he wanted.  The one conclusion that Zylle could draw from this was that wizards weren't especially eloquent or witty in these sorts of situations.

            The scarlet wizard growled in exasperation.  "Spit it out, already!"

            "E-el-elemental!"  The cowardly Auror then retreated back to the safety of his group after pointing at her with terror.  

            Zylle wasn't concerned with his retreat though.  He had called her an elemental.  He **knew** that she was an elemental.  All of them did, judging from their reactions.  But how?  How did they know?  Elementals hid their abilities well from wizards.  Zylle was certain they hadn't seen the duel between Keane and herself.  If they had, they probably only saw the Black Panther land in the rubbish pile.  So how did they recognize that she was an elemental?

            Abruptly, the scarlet wizard interrupted her rapid thinking.  He looked her way.  Curiously, his eyes widened in shock and he looked to have been momentarily floored.  Then, to her surprise, as well as everyone else's, he exclaimed in shock and anger, "It's you!"  In a matter of seconds, she found her wrists in a strong hold of an obviously furious wizard.  Zylle thought she felt the heat of a fire aura, but it kept flickering away and resurfacing repeatedly, she couldn't pinpoint if it was there or not.  She struggled, but he wasn't letting go.

            "Where is he?!" 

            "What are you talking about?!"  Gray eyes flashed enraged at an equally livid blue.

            "Where's Harry?!  What have you done to him?!"

            "I have no idea what you're talking about!"  She didn't take lightly to being yelled at.  Who on Earth was this 'Harry' person?  But if he didn't let go soon then she was going to do it for him.

            "Yes, you do," he insisted.  "I saw you with him!"  He then began to drag her forward and Zylle could dimly feel wizarding magic at work.  "I'm taking her to be interrogated," the scarlet wizard announced to the shocked squad of Aurors.  "Do the necessary memory charms," he then ordered.  The blue-robed wizards scattered at the command and soon it was just the two of them.  "As for you," he returned back to Zylle.

            "Yes, as for me," she said scathingly.  He had the nerve to just treat her like she was some worthless criminal when she had absolutely no idea what he was going on about! "Goodbye."  Zylle had swiftly used her wind magic.  The grip on her wrists loosened in shock of the whirlwind and within moments, Zylle Hawking was gone.

            "So, Hans.  It's beginning again."

            "Yes, it is.  But this time…this time it's different, Sarah."

            The two of them sat in the kitchen of Number 14 Zephyrus Court, thoughtful and worried.  This was odd for the two of them.  Normally, they were an enthusiastic and energetic pair.  Now, their worn faces bore the apprehensive and readied expressions of veterans.  Which they were, in actuality.  The two of them had survived the wars and managed to make lives out of the misery that it brought.  Together, they and the rest of the clan leaders of old helped remake a ravaged and divided town into the beautiful haven it was meant to be.  The thought that it could soon be all demolished was not a happy thing to consider.

            "Yes," Sarah concurred.  "How will the younger generation deal with this?  There is much at stake here.  And we cannot guide them."

            Here, Hans gave a sardonic laugh.  "Who guided us, Sarah?  We ourselves had no idea what we were doing when it was our time.  We were in a jam and chose what seemed to be the best decision at the time.  In the end, they must do the same."

            "I have faith in Zylle," Sarah sighed.  "I know that she will.  She's like her father.  And **that** is what worries me."

            "Zylle is not completely like Thomas.  She is a survivor like you.  I doubt that she will die no matter what she faces."

            "We thought the same about Thomas.  And he-"

            "He died a hero," Hans pointed out.  "And look what has come out of it.  The child of the family he gave his life for is now England's prime minister.  Though Thomas' death was tragic, good did come out of it."  

            The man swirled the tea in his cup distractedly with a small spoon, his expression pained.  Sarah clucked sympathetically.  "Here I am going on about Thomas.  I completely forgot Helenka."

            "It's alright," Hans reassured.  "It was a long time ago.  And I still have my son.  So, she is still alive through him."  He sighed.

            "We will be fine," Sarah said, determined.  "The dragons will make it.  And I doubt that those four would let themselves be beaten down by Phantoms."

            "That may be.  But who knows what will happen?  Cassandra's prophecies still haven't come to pass yet.  This maybe just the beginning of the events she foretold."

            "Let us hope that they never do.  The prospect of the apocalypse occurring is something I wouldn't wish on any generation."

            "It is too bad that she is not among us anymore."

            "Yes, and I bet the children she had with that wizard can't see for their lives…what was his name again?"

            "Peyton something…Peyton Trelawney."

            "Right.  It is too bad.  Cassandra Morgaine was a fantastic seer.  She probably could have helped us."

            "I know, I know.  You don't need to tell me that we're lost."

            The cat looked pretty proud at the fact that he finally admitted it.  Night and Shadow were heading home after Professor Coulter announced that their session was over.  It was a relief.  She had made him work and fight harder than he had ever before.  The cat could even feel pity radiating from her house from all that he did.  Thankfully, he was let out…at the unholy hour of nine in the evening.  Not surprisingly, Professor Coulter did not take to "Shadow" too well.  It was probably because it had attacked her once she started the session.  It took a bit of explaining.  Now they just "tolerated" each other.

            But this…this was intolerable!

            The master wasn't really paying attention to where he was going after he left Professor Coulter's house and had somewhere or another taken a wrong turn.  So, here they were.  Lost and the only things at his disposal being his elemental magic, a wand, and a very smug feline.

            The pair walked on.  Night was looking all over for a sign that was familiar to him.  The cat could tell that he was trying not to think about the fact that only Grey Tower would be "familiar" to him now since he had no memories from before July 31st.  Kardis, unknown to Night, was looking around for any possible threats in the area.  Kardis was not a spirit of protection like White Owl was, but it would defend its master.  It was going to have a long talk with that bird.  It had flown off earlier, squawking something about the master's mother.  The white avian would have been very useful right about now.

            "Nope…there's absolutely nothing…" Night abruptly stopped in his tracks after he turned the corner.  The smells of magic and old spells were everywhere, assaulting his senses in all directions.  This was clearly a magical place, even more so than the regular part of town.  It was as if a sharp barrier or line had been drawn to separate this location from the rest of Grey Tower.  It was curious about this and would have loved to explore further, but it felt the best course of action was to get the master home as fast as possible.  Its instincts clearly were against having Night there.

            It mewed to get his attention, but the boy walked forward, almost stiffly into the place.  He was looking around himself again, with an expression of concentration and confusion.  Kardis ran forward on silver paws to keep up with his increased pace.  It was worried and it grew more alarmed the deeper they ventured into the area.

            The houses in this place were old and dilapidated.  They looked like they had once been respectable houses with clean lawns and flowers, but it seemed as if that were ages ago.  From what it sensed, some of the houses were like the master's home and were watching them.  But it also could tell that it was not the only one.  Spirits, unseen, were floating among them.  And Kardis did not like them.  They whispered of tragedy, of betrayal, and of vengeance.  They spoke of a new war brewing on the horizon.  Night tripped a couple of times, to the cat's dismay, on the broken sidewalk.  The streetlamps were on, but they were leaking.  They stopped by one in the middle of Shade Boulevard.  Dust was pouring out of the glass in a gold and silver stream and it was clear that it was the source of light.  It sparkled and shone as if it were the fragments of a star.  Kardis did not like it.  The stuff stuck to its paws.  Night reached out to touch it himself.

            There it was:  another flash of intuition.  As soon as it had come, the master collapsed to the ground.  Immediately, Kardis went over to him, trying to revive him.  But the dangerous feeling around them had increased tenfold.

            Someone was there.  And it was someone with far from friendly intentions.  It growled much like its nundu origins.  No one was going to harm the master while it was in existence.

            Stardust fell and stuck to messy black hair while eyes of pure silver gazed unseeingly into the street.

            Where was he?

            It was like being in Lethe again…except more confusing.

            Scenes, images, voices.  They all swirled around his head, mixing, showing, and only succeeding in creating bewilderment in his mind.

            There were messages, plain and clear that was disguised under a cloak of mystery.  They were there and he could not deny it.  They cried out in the flames, whispered in the wind, spoke softly in the water, and were carved into the earth.  But he couldn't read them.  It wasn't time.  

            Stardust flew around him, a gold and silver storm of powder.  With a jolt, a scene appeared before his eyes.

            Night was still standing beneath the streetlamp, but this time it was intact.  He looked over himself.  It was as if he were there, but not there.  Like a memory…but this was most definitely not a memory.  He knew this instinctively.  Night had never been here before.  Shade Boulevard was empty of all life except for two individuals.

            He disliked the man immediately.  He was far too…clean.  It probably had to do with the fact that his entire outfit was a blinding white.  His dark brown hair was flawless as was his smile.  If one looked closely though, you could see the slime that he was under the guise of purity.  

            The other was a woman, who Night felt immediately intimidated by.  Her face was far too strong to be pretty and black eyes glared fiercely at the man in white, her lip curled in a sneer.  Night thought this was rather impressive for her, since she looked to be hardly standing.  Her black clothing was slashed in many places and her bare arms were covered in blood.  Yet she still stood strong.  He thought he could see the black shape of a wolf tattoo on her arm. 

            "It was you," she said plainly, accusing.

            "Yes, it was," the man said with pride.  "Surprised, Mirage?  It's all over."

            "Not really," Mirage said disdainfully.  "I already knew you were hardly worth trusting.  The fact that you sought trust was a signal enough."

            Craig's frown faltered, "What do you mean?"

            Mirage just laughed sadistically.  "What do you think I mean, you imbecilic moron?!  We're the Sekai-Kage Wolves!  Spying and killing are our specialty!  Do you really think that we trust _each other_ with what we know?  That's just plain naïve!"

            From Craig's shaking shoulders, Night could tell that hit home.  "At least I'm not the _only _Sekai-Kage **left**, Black Wolf!"

            The woman just laughed before smirking.  It sent shivers down Night's spine.  It wasn't a pleasant laugh or a pleasant smirk.  Mirage seemed much like a teacher, an arrogant one with a lot of experience, ready to discipline a particularly dumb student.  Though where he had gotten that analogy was beyond him.  "Am I **really **the _only_ Sekai-Kage wolf left?  If I may recall…" Night was amazed at what she did next.  Mirage flung a dagger and sliced off the left sleeve of Craig's white robe.  There, on his now bare arm, was the wolf tattoo of the Sekai-Kage, colored green.  Still smirking, Mirage sneered, "No, I am not the only Sekai-Kage wolf yet."  She then called up a blue staff, a water element weapon.  "But soon," she threatened in a low voice.  "I will be."

            "You can't!  You have nothing left!  Everyone is dead and you hardly have the energy to stand!  What makes you think you could kill me?!"

            "Trust me, I can," Mirage promised.  "I ultimately won't be the only person killing you."

            Craig's expression became one of disbelief.  "You won't be the only one?  I don't see the other clans here to help you.  What are you going to do?  Run to Thomas Hawking or Vashti Akbar?  You can't do anything."

            "Don't be too sure of that."  Mirage pointed her staff at her wolf tattoo.  Which started to glow.

            Her opponent's eyes widened.  "No…you'll kill us all!"

            "That really doesn't matter to me, Craig!  We're the last ones," pronounced Mirage.  "You betrayed us!"

            "You're summoning the Wolf!"

            "And by summoning the Sekai-Kage Wolf, it will be as you said.  It's all over."

            The scene exploded with energy, so much that Night had to block his eyes.  Dimly he heard the howl of a wolf and the tortured scream of a man in pain.  A man that was dying.

            Night awoke with a start.  _When had I fallen asleep?_  That question reminded him of the dark realm of oblivion once more.  His vision was clouded…what was this gold and silver dust?  Gingerly, he lifted himself off the ground into a sitting position.  Night noticed the powder had gotten into his hair.  He tried mussing it up to get it off, but to no avail, it stayed.  He would have to get it out later.  Night still felt groggy and weakened, like he had just run three marathons non-stop.

            It then came to his attention that Shadow was growling.  In his time with the cat, he had not known it to be feral in any way.  Yet, his cat was definitely on the alert.  Shadow's black fur was on end; its gold tip tail was lashing and his gold ears were flat against his skull.  It was alarmed in some way.  There was something wrong about the area.

            "Shadow?  What's wrong?"  It was only then that he noticed the still forms of two teens around his age on the ground.  They weren't moving at all, though Night could hear them softly breathing.  Their clothing was slashed viciously and they had cuts all over their bodies.  Most interesting of all was that the irises of their eyes were dim silver.  He didn't think that it was normal and he wondered what happened when he was out.  He cautiously moved the still arm of one of them.  There was the mark of the vulture, colored red.  The other he thought he saw was a blue vulture.  But he had never heard of any vulture clans.

            "How dare you, you little runt!"

            Both Night and Shadow were startled by the malicious voice.  A wind elemental cloaked in yellow jumped down in front of them from one of the street's buildings.  It was a woman and she quickly checked the state of the two fallen elementals.  "Unconscious…psychic shock?"

            The woman raised herself to her full height.  The effect was even more imposing since he couldn't get up.  "I'm Celestine Algernon, Black Vulture of the Tsuta-Zeppeki, and I will make sure you pay for what you have done!"  Night tried to get Shadow away from him.  But the cat refused to budge, jumping into his lap and yowling angrily at the woman.

            The last things Night heard were the hiss of an irate cat, an explosion, and a wolf howling.  He heard a woman cry out in pain, but she wasn't dying.  He was sure of that.  

            It was then that he slipped into unconsciousness.

            "The kid never ceases to amaze me."  _Déjà vu.  Is that Dr. Annie?_  Vaguely, he registered that he was at home, in his bed so to speak.  

            "Annie, I don't need to hear praise.  I just want to know if he's alright."  _Mum…_Zylle's voice sounded tightened and strained.  What had happened to him?  Where had that explosion come from?

            "He's fine, Zylle.  I'm shocked a blast of that magnitude didn't kill him."  Yes, it was Doctor Annie, all right.  

            "What do you think happened?"

            "Simple.  He was in the middle of it and was somehow shielded."

            "Shielded?"

            "Yes, I think it was a combination of certain things.  I know for certain that two factors were his magic and the presence of stardust around him.  The other two, I'm unsure of."

            "Well, either way I'm happy that he's alright."

            "Just give him a day or two and he should be up and running mad like the other teens.  Still," Dr. Annie tsked.  Night knew that he was in for an interrogation when Zylle realized he was up.  "For one thing, that stardust can't be removed."

            "What?"

            "Stardust is tricky.  When it comes in contact with those who have never been in the light of stardust before, it influences the magic.  It's an old bit of elemental magic.  Since he was in direct contact, you see what I mean.  If you and I touched stardust, we wouldn't be affected since we've known stardust light for a long time.  The good thing is that it won't harm him.  Actually, it would help his shields and defense immensely."  As long as it wasn't going to hurt him in anyway, he was fine.  _Was Shadow all right?  _The cat had defended him loyally when that woman attacked.

            "Hmm…Annie, do you think we can apply that to the Grey Tower wards?"

            There was a short silence here.  "It's a possibility.  Now, why don't we go downstairs and let Nuitari here rest.  I'm certain that cat of yours will be eager to see you."

            "No, he isn't.  He just wants to get into the room.  And he's not at the moment."  Their voices started to fade as they descended to the house's first floor.

            "I must say that he's a very intelligent cat."

            "He's egotistical and protective…and unfortunately, I've come to like it."  

            Nuitari grinned at Dr. Annie's exuberant laughter.

            What happened?  I leave you alone for a few moments… 

            _It's not my fault!  He was the one who got us lost!  Wait…why did you leave in the first place?!_

**The Lady Zylle was attacked.  I distracted the wizards from arriving as long as I could.  I left because I figured that you – being a supposedly "powerful" and "intelligent" spirit – could bring the young master home safely!**

_Well, you thought wrong.  _

**I now know that very well, thank you.**

            _Not what I meant.  And I defended him from those two upstarts!_

**You did not take them out.**

            _No…they tried grabbing him.  As soon as they touched him, they acted as if they were badly burned before collapsing._****

**            Silver sight.**

            _What?  _

            **It's a psychic ability that the master has.  Using it, he could see what is usually hidden.  But it is not easily controlled.  And those without the strength of mind to handle it would suffer 'psychic shock' so to speak.**

            _And why do I get the feeling that this is just the beginning of everything?_

            **Because it is.  Get used to it.  **

            _Whoop-de-freaking-do._

_***_

Review page hopefully will be up tomorrow.  As usual, review responses, summaries, and previews will be listed.  Also, there will be the current results of the poll.  The gods chosen will appear on chapter twenty-eight and there is still time to vote.  Once again, my English teacher hath given me a project that contributed to the delay.  Thanks for reading and reviewing!

-Raven Dragonclaw


	27. Ever Approaching

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Twenty-Seven:  Ever Approaching

            Night sat at the table, sulking and scowling magnificently.  Across from him, Zylle was barely suppressing an amused smile as she sipped her morning tea.  Sarah, however, was far less tactful.  She made no attempt to hide her visibly shaking shoulders as she ate her waffles.  So much that Night thought she might start choking.  He for one was _not_ going to perform the Heimlich maneuver if the need arose.  All right, he would.  But he was still peeved.  Shadow sat at his feet, imperiously eating his meal like a king at a banquet.  

            "Night, stop making that face," Zylle said, failing miserably at her shot at being stern.

            "You didn't nearly have you scalp scrubbed off your head!"

            Gran could not help it.  She snorted into her breakfast and after swallowing, broke down laughing.  This only made Night grimace even more.  Meanwhile, Shadow, lazily looking up from his food, gave the older woman a withering look before tucking into his meal once more.

            "But If I didn't do what I did," Zylle sagely pointed out, "you would still have all that stardust in your hair."

            Lifting a strand of his hair, once black but now gilded in gold and silver, he replied, "I still do."

            "Not as much," countered his mother.  "Only streaks now." It was true; his once messy black locks were now streaked with gold and silver.  Zylle had tried to get as much as she could out, but not all of it could be removed.

            "Yes," Gran chuckled.  "Your hair isn't _completely_ like that now.  If any one looks at you funny, just say you dyed your hair that way.  Lord knows I've seen worse.  And on worse looking kids."  

            "You have a point…but why did you have to scrub so hard?!" he asked indignantly.

            "Because stardust is like that," Gran replied still laughing.  She gathered up the dishes to put in the kitchen for washing.  As she picked up Shadow's dish, the black cat gave her a contemptuous glance with its startling green eyes.  Shaking a finger at the feline, she playfully chided, "No more for you!  We don't want you getting fat now, do we?"  

            In Night's opinion, it looked like Shadow did want to get fat.

            Humming Gran took the dishes and the cat's food dish into the kitchen.  Shadow got up and haughtily walked after her.  Apparently, Shadow thought he was still entitled to more food.

            "What is stardust exactly?" Night asked.

            "Well…it's a combination of the elements in a certain specific fashion that makes a particular glowing dust.  None of us can make it offhand; it takes a lot of preparation.  If a person hasn't had any previous contact with the stuff, then it sticks to you.  That is, if you touch it directly."

            "Like my hair."

            "Exactly.  But most people don't touch it. Nor," Zylle said, "do they end up with it in their hair.

            He mulled this over before inquiring, "How were you exposed stardust?"

            Zylle just smiled lightly.  "Being exposed doesn't mean that you necessarily have to touch it.  Being in the light of stardust is enough.  Every year we have a festival where the lights we use glow from stardust."  Seeing Night's confused face, she elaborated, "Festival of Stars, it's in the spring.  It's a very old tradition, goes almost as far back as Grey Tower's founding.  We celebrate the ending of winter and acknowledge the spirits of our ancestors that night."

            "Will I be able to go to it?"

            "Of course!  You're an elemental and my son after all.  Wait 'til you go, it's great."

            Sighing with satisfaction, he felt at peace.  It was a relief that she wasn't angry with him.  After all, he had been found unconscious in an abandoned, taboo part of town where a strong explosion just occurred.  He had informed Zylle of the Black Vulture and the two unconscious teens, but she had said that no one matching their descriptions had been found with him.   He could only assume that they managed to get away somehow.  But he was certain that he heard the scream of agony made by Celestine Algernon. 

            Night really couldn't explain what happened to him.  He just remembered touching the stardust before something the equivalent of a jolt of electricity passed through him.  

            Then it was that odd feeling and those visions…

            Afterward, while he was still confined to his bed, he asked the house for a biography on those who lived during the Phantom Wars.  There was a lot of information inside it, especially on his grandmother and Zylle's father.  

            But when he found the section dedicated to Mirage Searle, he found very little.  It detailed her early life, how she won the tournament of the Sekai-Kage, but it left a complete blank after an event called the "Starlands Explosion."  He could only assume that this was the battle he saw before.  The last information on her was that she had been briefly treated at Grey Tower Sanctuary before disappearing with still serious injuries.  Not too far later, a person named Albus Dumbledore (whose name rung a bell at first, but Night assumed he had just heard in passing before) defeated Adlar Grindelwald.  Then, nothing.

            Night had decided to put in the back of his mind for now.  At the moment, he was just going to content in being in _his_ home with _his_ family.  Though why this brought him such amazing peace and security was bizarre.

            Ducking, he just barely avoided a plume of red flames fired his way.  But that did not mean he did not feel its effects.  The heat from the attack added to the perspiration already gathered on his brow.  Reacting quickly once more, he jumped out of the way when several spires of rock appeared out of nowhere above him to crash down on his skinny frame.  It was hard to retaliate when two **very** experienced elementals were attacking you.

            Night tried to get his bearings, slightly panting.  It had been like this for about…four hours around now.  Hans and Gran were not going easy on him.  They had decided to see how well he would do against two elemental opponents, not just one.  Why they had made this change in the regime was beyond him, but he had to go along with it.  When he had asked, they gave each other an odd look.  Night just assumed it was for his own benefit.  Even Franz, Hans' son, gave the boy a sympathetic look when he had stopped by to drop off some groceries for his father.  

            He grimaced from the protestations his body was giving him.  Muscles he didn't know he had were stinging with pain.  Well, he thought they were muscles.  _Hopefully, they were_.  Those were his thoughts as Hans performed a combination attack of fissure and fire magic.  The attack known as 'Eruption' was especially tricky to perform.  Not only did you have to have the perfect balance of fire and earth magic to do it, but it was a very slow attack despite its power.  Night easily dodged it, but slightly burned with a fireball attack from Gran.

            But he couldn't rest.  If there was one thing that all four of his teachers – Zylle, Gran, Hans, and Professor Coulter – agreed on was that he wasn't to get a rest.  In a real fight, his opponent wouldn't let him take a break and have a glass of water before catching his second wind.  No, they wouldn't.  Night had quickly learned that in fights with elementals, if your enemy was down, take advantage of the situation and strike before he could get up again.  Zylle had told him that often the adversary in a tournament situation would give him a bit of time to catch up.  Most elementals honored this courtesy.  But real life was real life.  And if someone were trying to kill him, waiting for the person to get back up again probably wasn't the wisest situation to act upon.  

            The only problem he had with this training session was that he wasn't allowed to use his wind or water magic at all._  And those two elements would be a great help right about now_.  But he had no time to dwell on this as he quickly summoned up his fire glaive to parry a vertical slice from a viciously sharp earth elemental broadaxe.  He released some of the strength he was using against the blow so that Hans would fall forward slightly.

            It worked.  Hans' eyes widened slightly as he fell forward and Night, not missing the opportunity, pushed him back and moved out of the way in case of a counterattack.  But he had to guard himself once more as Gran attacked with a bladed staff of her own.  Quickly, he tried to form a plan against her, but she was too fast.  She easily knocked his glaive aside before slashing at him.  Night was very thankful for all the work he had been doing with Zylle.  A month ago, he would never have avoided that attack.  With slightly shocked gray eyes (glasses would have only been cumbersome in this sort of training), he saw as the slice of her staff's blade incorporated fire with it.  

            "You've still got work to do, kiddo," Gran said grinning when they stopped briefly.  "You'll do fine in the tournament."

            "But," broke in Hans, approaching with his broadaxe ready.  "That doesn't mean we'll go easy on you."

            _Why do I get the feeling this will just keep getting tougher and tougher?_

            Bran had a red eyebrow quirked when he saw Night's hair, but didn't say what was on his mind.  Trina, on the other hand, said her views right off the bat.  

_            "What in the name of the eight hells of Dante happened to your hair?!"_

            Bran had put in that he was certain Dante had more than eight levels of hell in the novel The Inferno, but it looked like Trina wasn't particularly giving a damn about that.  Night especially didn't expect to find himself tackled to the ground and have his hair inspected.  

            "Trina, do you mind getting off of me and to stop looking at my hair?"

            "Not until you tell me when and why you dyed it, as well as what dye you used."

            "A few days ago, it was an accident, and its stardust.  Happy?"  Yes, he wasn't pleased to be treated like this.  Who knew that a change in hair color could be such a big thing?

            They were in the park, at the beech tree that they know tended to gather at.  Its expansive and papery leaves blocked out almost all light coming from the sun, making a nice shade for this sultry late summer afternoon.  There were quite a few people in the park:  plainly enjoying what was left of summer as they could.  Night couldn't help but let a smile slip as two little kids started to splash each other in the water of a nearby fountain, to the disapproval of their mother.  It was a peaceful scene.  

            Bran shook his head wryly.  "How on Earth did you get stardust in your hair?"

            "Eastern Starlands."

            "Oh, so you got lost."

            "I was not lost!  I knew I was in Grey Tower and exactly where I was heading.  Therefore, I wasn't lost."

            "Right," Bran sarcastically drawled with a playful grin.  "You were lost."

            "Oh, leave him alone Bran," reprimanded Trina.  "We all get stuck there at some point in our lives.  But what did you do, Night?  Stick your head in a pile of the stuff?"

            Night laughed at that.  "Actually, that was pretty close to what happened!"

            Bran joined in with, "You never told me you were a _Seer_, Trina!"

            "Shut up!  See if I ever talk to you to again."  But she said this with a smile.  They knew Trina was like that.  Night also found out recently that Trina did not think highly of prophecies and omens of that sort.  This struck him as rather familiar, but he did not look to deep into it.  Training or an interruption by Hedwig or Shadow usually drove these thoughts out of his mind. 

            "Well, well, well.  Look what we have here!  The spectacular trio."  All three simultaneously looked up at the sneering voice.  Standing above them was Simeon Bradley.  Harry's green eyes – he hadn't worn his contacts today – narrowed in dislike and he thought he could hear a low growl coming from Bran.  Trina looked at him with extreme distaste.  "I suppose you three think you're good enough for next week's tournament," he mocked.  "You won't get far.  Ravencroft and Smythe probably wouldn't make it into the second round and Hawking, you've only been around here for a month.  I'd like to see how well _you _would do."

            Night shook with suppressed rage and could easily feel Bran's fire aura flaring up violently.  Trina's earth aura was also reacting to her anger.  One had to wonder why Simeon was acting so stupidly on his part.  He was angering three elementals.  Those said elementals that had certainly taught him a thing or two during the past month.

            "You won't stand a – bleugh!"  All three of them blinked in surprise when out of nowhere, a stream of water hit Simeon directly in the face.  He went toppling back at the force of it.  Night, Bran, and Trina could only look dumbly at the scene before them.  They weren't very sure how to react.  None of them were expecting that.

            "Oy, Bradley!"  Night turned to the voice that hollered not far from the fountain.  "Getting a bit cocky before the tournament, aren't you?" the newcomer scorned.  It was then that Night recognized him.  It was the boy who helped them with their prank on Simeon before.  He had the same blue eyes, the same spiky light brown hair.  At the moment, he was looking at Simeon with a great deal of dislike.

            Simeon glared at the water elemental.  "What would you know, Freely?!  If I recall correctly, your family is still the shame of the elemental community!"

            Night winced slightly at what could only be called a tidal wave hit Simeon dead on.  Bran, in particular, flinched at that attack.  It probably had to do with the fact that he was a fire elemental.  On the other hand, Trina looked extremely amused.  With that, the boy known as 'Freely' walked off towards the far end of the park, away from them.  Simeon, meanwhile, just gave one final glare before running off.

            "Who was that?" Night asked.

            "That," Bran said quietly, "was Mordecai Freely.  He's part of our clan.  A water elemental obviously."

            "They said his family was the shame of the elemental community?"

            Trina nodded.  "You might not want to mention that to him.  The Freely family used to be part of the Rekka-Ki.  You know how the Hawkings are usually the leaders of our clan?  The Freelys were like that."

            "Yeah, then the Phantom Wars happened," added Bran.  "Neron's Disaster was aptly named.  A lot of elementals were killed because Neron Freely, Black Chimera of the time, caused a huge tidal wave that did more damage to our side than the Phantoms.  A younger brother took over and was a good leader, but the family couldn't live with the shame.  So, they transferred to the Arashi-Tenku with Sarah Hawking's permission."

            "What's he like?"

            The expressions of both Trina and Bran turned thoughtful.  This had Night puzzled.  From what he had seen of Grey Tower, everyone knew each other relatively well.  And the clans shared common schools, so no doubt they would have an idea on his personality.  

            "You know," Bran responded, "I really don't know."

            Trina looked over in the direction Mordecai left.  "He's never been one to stand out in the crowd and I think his family has a lot of pressure on him.  In the last tournament, they had someone competing.  Mirai Alucard defeated him though.  As a result, he got disowned.  The Freelys really want someone as a leader again."

            Night nodded neutrally.  This Mordecai Freely sounded pretty intriguing.  

            The tournament.

            It was on everyone's minds.  A lot of teens he noticed, had vanished off such gathering places as Sky Lane and Ignatius Street to places unknown.  But he had heard various adults complaining about the procrastination of "the young people" and how they should have been prepared months ago.  Others grumbled about how their children would not be able to compete because of they "needed more time to train".  Yet another group protested against its early start.

            From his own clan, he knew a few who were entering.  Himself, for one.  Bran and Trina were also giving it a shot, but all three agreed to stay friends even if they had to fight each other.  Pierce Rowan and Simeon Bradley were also contenders.  Trina knew a few girls who were fighting, but Night didn't remember their names off the bat.  Bets were even being taken on who would get what position.  From what he could hear of the local gossip, there was quite a bit of gold on his name for a number of positions.  He could only assume this was because he was Nuitari Hawking.

            He wondered how he would do.  Only a month's worth of elemental training seemed pathetic in comparison to those, who like Mordecai Freely, had probably been training for this day for most of their lives.  But he was taught by the best.  He had to take comfort in that.

            A stray wind mussed his silver and gold streaked black hair, briefly revealing a thin thunderbolt scar on his forehead.

            "What on Earth do you think you're playing at!  I expect better from you!  Make an effort or is that beyond you?"  Night flipped out of the way as an assault of icicles was sent his way, but he was hit in the side by Professor Coulter's water staff.  But Professor Coulter did not just hurt him with the staff's hit.  As soon as the water weapon came in contact with his body, he felt extreme cold.  When he steadied himself, he found half of his upper body and a great deal of his right arm incased in frosty ice.  In the meager lantern light of Professor Coulter's dungeon-like basement, it glittered like a thousand prisms in the sun. 

            Night repressed the urge to scream.  Such was training with Professor Coulter:  a harsh session that strained his body and his mind to the limits while putting excessive abuse on his self-esteem.  He knew that she did not mean most of what she said.  It was just her way teaching.  She expected nothing but his very best and if he didn't try, she got annoyed.  If you had the power, then there was no point in not using it unless you had a good reason.  

            "You have all this potential and power in your hands!  Use it!"  She moved so fast that he could barely see her.  Professor Coulter had been going even tougher on him since his fight with Ian Harlan.  In her opinion, Night should have been able to take Ian out without sustaining as much damage as he did.  

            Zylle had been skeptical of this.  In his mother's opinion, he had done exceptional job.  Night had taken on the Black Panther, the future leader, of a known and dangerous Phantom clan.  He had won with only a _month_'_s_ training.  Zylle had been very happy with him, so much that she gave him a huge present of one of the family's treasures.  Even now, the bracelet made out of strong shining silver with a gold protection spell on it was on his wrist.  It heightened his defensive abilities.  Now, Night felt more than safe.  With this bracelet, his shield spells, as well as the stardust, he wondered why he needed to be protected.  But Zylle was adamant in her belief that the Phantoms would come after him again.

            He was worried now though.  The ice would hinder his speed.  Not to mention, his dominant arm was slower at the present because of it.  Shrugging as much as he could with one frozen arm, he switched his own water staff to his left hand.  Night had no memory of learning to use his left hand as adeptly as his right, he just knew that he could.  It was quite a useful skill, especially if he ended up in these sort of situations.  

            He jumped up slightly when she made a slice for his legs before bringing down his staff from above.  She quickly brought up her weapon to parry, but Night managed to make a quick slice to her own side.  He copied her move freezing her own limbs.  Before landing and attacking her outright.  Professor Coulter, experienced fighter that she was, moved out of the way though.  

            A mocking smirk graced her features.  With a quick flick of her wrist, the ice disappeared off her body.  "You're learning.  But you need to remember what you know about your opponent."  He scowled.  Night knew that he would never really satisfy her expectations of him.  He doubted that she herself fulfilled the what she expected of herself.  Zylle had said this was normal of her.  But Night could help but admire, even if he was intimidated by, the drive of Professor Lavinia Coulter.

            He wondered how other people thought of her at first glance.  Professor Coulter was attractive – even he admitted that – but her beauty was ice-like.  Pale skin, cold blue eyes, and hair that didn't seem to every get messed up.  She also had style, acting almost as if she wherever she was, she was in charge.  Also, he had not known **anyone** who could move as quickly as she could with high-heeled sandals on.

            Out of all of his trainers, Professor Coulter by far was the strictest.  Though he expected this.  She was not spoken of with terror around the entire population of Grey Tower Town with terror for nothing.  And even Zylle had admitted that she was nearly beaten by Lavinia in their tournament years ago.  Only a combo attack of the Windcaller Jin technique and the Hellfire Inferno, secured her win.

            "Don't you think you're going a bit hard on me?"

            "No."

            He raised an eyebrow.  "I've seen how the other water elementals trained."

            "Note your words, Mr. Hawking.  You said 'other'.  I am not training _other_ water elementals.  I'm training _you_."  Her ice blue eyes narrowed, blatantly asking him to challenge her authority.  

            Night looked up at the imposing building warily, Trina and Bran on either side of him.  It was made of cold and smooth gray stone, unrelenting in its strength.  Green tile covered the roof where it wasn't interrupted by a gable or turret.  The architecture had a gothic feel to it.  The front stairs leading to the doorway were brutal:  large and numerous in number.  Lifeless statues of the animals of each clan were scattered about in the front courtyard, all of equal height and proportion, even of the ones from Phantom clans.  It was easy to pick out the impressive dragon of the Arashi-Tenku, roaring to the skies in a defiant pose.  Next to it stood an aloof wolf, watching everything with stone eyes.  Night's eyes steeled slightly when they passed a monument of a panther.  The arched entrance has enormous as were the heavy wooden doors leading into the structure.  Above them at each corner of the daunting building crouched four snarling stone gargoyles, each holding an orb of a different color.  One could almost call it a small castle in the middle of a sea of modern glass and steel.  

            Inscribed high above the entrance, in stark gothic letters, were the words:  GREY TOWER HIGH SCHOOL.  Night felt slightly intimidated by its commanding aura, but assumed he would get used to it sooner or later.  Bran and Trina didn't seem to be affected by it.  Then again, they had lived in Grey Tower Town all their lives.  

            "This is the high school?"  He had a skeptical eyebrow raised when he asked this.  To him, it looked more of a fortress than a school.  Were the teachers trying to coerce the students into cooperation through this building?"

            "Yeah," Bran said, scowling slightly.  It was no wonder why.  Night knew that besides Trina, Bran used to have no one.  And Trina always had to leave at certain points in the year because of her father's career and fame.  The redhead was always happy for the girl when she left, but Night could sympathize with what had to be a lonely time for him.  Being practically a genius at his studies did not help much.  And Simeon Bradley, to top it all off, made it miserable for him.  

            Then again, Simeon Bradley's presence anywhere ruined everything.  But Night wasn't concerned with that established fact of his current life at the moment.

            Trina, like she did with mostly everything, took it in stride.  She wasn't an outcast like Bran was, so she was slightly luckier.  Trina mostly stayed by Bran, even though she had quite a crowd of friends.  Her skills at sketching and crafts put her in high demand.  Also, she was more or less an average student with average abilities.  She wasn't bothered that much and viewed school as something she had to do.  "Don't pay attention to Bran," she said to him.  "It isn't all that bad."

            Bran snorted derisively at this.

            "Seriously," Trina repeated, giving a scathing glare at the other boy.  Bran just raised his hands in a placating manner, his face baring a hilarious expression of nervous terror.  Night just grinned in amusement.  Trina may seem easy-going and calm at first, but she had quite the temper when riled up.

            "But," he asked, "why does the school look like this?"

            Instinctively, he and Trina turned to Bran.  Sighing, he replied, "Originally, this was a sanctuary and a fortress to protect Grey Tower Town from any aggressive outside forces.  But around the mid-eighteenth century, a better school building was needed.  Since they didn't want to raise money and they had a unused large building in good condition right here, well there you go."

            "It's the summer though," insisted Night.  He had never heard of a school open during the summer months before.  Weren't the officials afraid of vandalism?  Theft?  Things blowing up in the chemistry labs?

            "We know, but the school is open all year.  The gym is really good for training," Trina clarified as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.  "The chem. Labs are sometimes open, but Professor Coulter is pretty strict about them.  One thing out of place and you're dead."

            Night nodded understandingly.  It didn't take much imagination to envision Professor Coulter ruthlessly going after those who had vilified her labs.  Even during training sessions, she made it clear that he wasn't to touch _any_ potions or ingredients in her home.  Night admitted that she was a good potions maker – he had found out later that most of the medicines used at Grey Tower Sanctuary Hospital were made from her formulas – if a trifle anal retentive about their care.  

            Together, the trio walked in.  Almost immediately his attention was grabbed towards the ceiling.  If not for the large glass windows, Night was sure that the ceiling would be nothing more than a mass of shadows.  A large stone flight of steps, carved with curious runes and spidery lettering, lead to upper levels.  The walls were not of the same harsh rock, but of a clean marble, with more of the same markings.  Walking past the staircase, they turned a few more corners.  The path they took was dizzying.  Night tried to discern signs to remember their path, but he found it impossible.  No, the halls and corridors were far too winding.  Yet, Bran and Trina seemed to know exactly where they were going.  They even entertained him with some stories they had of the rooms they passed.

            "Oh, that's where Pierce Rowan turned a chair into a rhinoceros.  The damage that caused…"

            "You wouldn't believe what Violet Tennebaum did in that class.  Never mess with earth elementals with stun spore, Night.  Personally, I think all earth elementals are vicious – ow!"

            "Do you remember what happened last year, Bran?  When Angela made it snow?  In June, no less?"

            "Don't go into that classroom – trust me – it's like being in a veritable toaster…I wonder if that's been fixed yet?"

            Finally, they stopped in front of a set of double doors, slightly larger than the rest.  Night could vaguely hear the shouts and noises of people behind them.  They opened one of the doors and walked in.  

            All at once, Night was assaulted with cheers and jeers.  The crowd was of numerous people his own age around a raised ring of some kind.  Two people were standing in the ring.  One of them, he recognized as Julian Wavers.  The other, a shorter boy with a closed expression and a wiry build, was someone he hadn't met before.  He was a Kiri-Kaminari, judging from his falcon tattoo.  Julian was holding a mace of water magic while his opponent was using a plain earth elemental staff.  They circled each other warily and he noted that they were gauging the other's abilities.  The crowd around them was wild, each screaming both encouragement and insult in a manic frenzy.  It surrounded him, enveloped him, and even at some level scared him.  There was nothing but the thrill of the fight, the excitement of the battle, the joy of victory, and the heartless sting of defeat.  It was nothing but pure human conflict in the most beautiful and civilized sense:  a duel.  Not to the death, but rather to show strength and to improve, to gain more than what they had originally had.  The crowd went wild with this ideal of man against man, one against the other.  However, the objects of their attention did not seem to notice the tumult around them as they were completely focused on the movements of their adversary.

            Julian made the first move.  Faking to the left, he struck his water mace from the right, hoping to catch the other off-guard.  The unknown boy merely moved out of the way and in one fluid movement brought his staff to strike at Julian's sides.  Night flinched at the expression of pain on Julian's face, but the black-skinned boy got his revenge by swinging his mace at his challenger's legs, succeeding in upsetting the boy's balance and at causing damage.  The boy luckily rolled to the side as Julian tried to hit him while he was on the ground and brought his staff up in a defensive position.  They went back to circling each other again.  But one could tell that there was no real grudge between the two.  Julian's smile was not that of a cocky contender but one of friendly sport.  The other looked mildly amused.  Mildly.  Night found it rather hard to believe that someone could guard his or her expression that well.

            Bran chuckled, "I wonder who'll win this one."

            "Who knows?" replied Trina.  "Julian is good, but so is Victor.  He won't go down without a fight."  Night continued to watch the scrap between the two in an awed silence.  Zylle had told him about these practice bouts, but Night began to think that she purposely left out information.  Such as where they took place.  Most likely, she did so to keep him away from these fights.  There was no supervision from any adult, so anything could happen.  Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a familiar blonde girl waiting on the side.  Well, if anyone was injured, they could be sure that Mirabelle Diamante would help them.

            It was then that a beautiful redhead not to far off caught his attention.  Her straight hair was a much brighter shade of red than Bran's and was very long in length, seeming to go slightly past her small waist.  She had quite the figure and apparently did not make any attempt to hide it with her revealing designer clothing.  Whoever she was, she was talking airily to the girl next to her.  For a brief moment, Night caught glimpse of her face:  wide spaced blue eyes, a small noise, and a perfectly shaped mouth.  A regular teenage boy's dream.  

            But all thoughts of how good-looking she was disappeared as her expression twisted into that of a sneer.  Following her line of sight, Night saw Esperanza Rodriguez standing next to a girl with pale yellow hair.  They were talking animatedly to each other while keeping an eye on the fight.  Well, Esperanza was.  She was loudly cheering for Julian.  The other girl, who looked to be the quiet type, seemed to be supporting the other boy, Victor.  The pretty Spanish girl from the restaurant did not seem to notice the glare she was receiving.  Or if she did, she didn't care.  

            "Hey Bran," Night said quietly as to not to attract Trina's attention.  He had the distinct impression that Trina didn't like that girl.  It was a strong hunch on his part.  After all, he didn't think that Trina would like someone who acted like the young woman was.  And Trina was a good friend of Esperanza.  

            "Who?"  When he saw whom Night was talking about, Bran gave a sad knowing smile.  "Don't try it, Night.  Gwendolyn Hopkirks is not a nice girl, no matter how great she looks.  She's broken the hearts of many an adolescent."  

            "Really?"

            "Yeah…"

            Concerned, he asked, "What happened?"

            "End of the year tests.  Who else to get the answers from than the school genius?"  Bran's voice was filled with scorn and anger, not towards him but to the red-haired girl.

            Night nodded and took another look at Gwendolyn Hopkirks.  This time, however, she noticed his gaze.  Immediately, her smile became coquettish and she gave a small flirtatious wave.   

            He had a sinking feeling about her…

            "What you're asking is basically how to infiltrate Hogwarts."  Tom Riddle stood in the main hall of Annuvin.  He, of course, was not dead.  But he was a soul, like the rest who passed through the dreaded doors of the castle of the dead.  He was dressed better than the previous times he had been in this room.  When he had first came, he hadn't cared what he looked like and managed to make himself appear to be a raving insane wizard who was extremely poor.  The other times, he was largely in drab clothing with his hair and features unkempt.  He hadn't known how much he was hurting Melania, the Dark Lady, with this.  But now…

            Now he looked as he should:  a proud wizard of impressive power.  His mixed dark brown and black hair – much like her own locks – were combed, though still untamable.  Not as untidy as Harry's, but messy nevertheless.  His new black robes were trimmed and accented with a light silver metal that was extremely rare and hard to come by.  A body that was now standing confidently with no sign of uncertainty or self-doubt wore them.  Tom's dark blue eyes, now containing the specks of gold and silver that were distinctive to those born to the line of Erebus of Tartarus that had not existed when he was in his body, were bright and intelligent.  It did Melania good to see him like this.

            "Exactly."

            "It will be difficult, you know," he advised sagely.  "Particularly since Dumbledore is bound to be especially paranoid about newcomers into Hogwarts."

            Melania sat on her dark throne, looking as regal as ever in a fluid Chinese silk dress colored in dark blue.  Her silver highlighted dark hair was up in a loose and messy bun, sticks holding the mass together and in place.  Gold and silver flecked blue eyes looked anxiously at the young man before her.  Her descendant.  Of course, Tom did not know that she was his ancestor.  Neither did Harry.  And it was for their safety that she did not tell them.  If those on the mortal side found out that her blood ran through their veins, then more would be after them.  She had faith in their abilities, there was no question of that, but the whole world against them would be a difficult thing to bear.  

            Though Tom was now doing better than he had been doing for the past fifty years.  Melania noted that he wasn't so depressed and he no longer moped around morosely in Lethe.  He was more concerned now with what was going on.  She assumed that contact with Harry was doing him wonders.  A pang of guilt hit her:  she had no intention to make Tom feel lonely.  But it had to be done.  And it was Lethe's nature to make those forget.  But since Tom was born to a dark deity, he was resistant to this effect.  It was unfortunate that she had to sacrifice his happiness for his safety.  But she wasn't going to give Pheta another shot at destroying him. 

            Melania couldn't help wondering what those two could do.  She had lost James – if she ever had him to begin with.  It was unfortunate that the "Descendant of Darkness" had denounced her in favor of the false light.  But then again, he had no idea of who he was or what he was doing.  Dumbledore, as well as the rest of his family, had him practically brainwashed against all things dark.  But, most of born in those times were.  And they, believing themselves in the right, would pass their hatred of her to their children.  And so it would continue through the generations until they realized that she who they worshipped so highly would be their executioner.  The irony that pervaded over so much in the universe.  

            Now she only had two:  Tom, who held the title of, "Dark Sovereign" and Harry, who was the "Dark Prince".  Why they were given those ranks were unknown to her.  She never gave the titles out, Destiny did.  Then again, she and her aunt never really got along.  Destiny was always too conniving, too willing to manipulate the lives of others and the course of events just so she would achieve an outcome that she thought was either best…or amusing.  But she definitely wasn't going to let Pheta, no matter what would or will happen, have her last two descendants.

            "Can you think of any way to get into Hogwarts, Tom?" she asked.  This was important.  They needed agents on the inside.  Hogwarts was primarily Pheta's territory.  It was true that some parts of the castle were wholly hers, but the charms on them were complex and ancient.  Only those in her service could access them.  If she managed to break Pheta's control over Hogwarts, it would be a serious blow to the light goddess' plans.  Also, it would help them keep an eye on the Order of the Phoenix, which students were Voldemort's spies, and listen in on what was going on in the wizarding world.

            The young man looked thoughtful.  "You might try sending over a person to act as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  That is, if the jinx on that position is still holding and if the applicant manages to gain Dumbledore's trust quickly."  Melania smirked slightly at this.  Was it any wonder that the specific curse she had put in the office of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was working?  She used it as a way to see who was competent or not.  Most of the time, she let them stay only a year.  Those Dumbledore chose were usually extreme supporters of Pheta.  Though Remus Lupin had left on his own accord.

            "Students would also make ideal spies," Tom noted.  "They would be able to see how the current generation is thinking, as well as find out where their loyalties lie."  He then added, "You could disguise them as transfer students, but you have to think up a _really _good excuse for their arrival.  Hogwarts rarely, if ever at all, takes transfers."

            Melania nodded.  "I see.  I'll have to see Moros about this.  He is much better at this sort of thing that I ever was or will be."

            Tom smirked.  "I thought you hated Moros."

            "I do," insisted the goddess.  "But he is the god of deceit and trickery.  No doubt he would have fun doing it."

            "Who do you plan on being the agents?"

            "I was thinking Raistlin might to a good job if I can get him to do it.  I won't commission Reapers, but there are other choices.  I would have to contact them though."

            "Still, you have to be careful," Tom warned.  "Any slip-ups could ruin everything."

            "I know, especially since the Charms position has been replaced by someone new."

            "New?"  Tom sounded skeptical.  "What happened to Jamison?"  He paused, realizing his mistake.  Jamison was the Charms professor in his time.  "Sorry.  I meant Flitwick?"

            "Diagon Alley," she replied grisly.  "He was there buying a few books when the Phantom elementals attacked."

            "But how is this new teacher any threat?"

            "I usually do not trust masters of command magic, _especially_ when they have a lot of potential to be users of chaotic magic."

            "Chaos sorcerer?"  Tom's face had become slightly pale.  But only slightly.  The expression Tom masked it with was one of curiosity and concern.  She could not blame him for getting worried though.  Chaos sorcerers had enormous power and incredible destructive potential.  Out of all the mortal magic users, they were by far the most feared.

            "No…I think this one might be a Soulseeker," she assured him.  "He's a renegade, neutral at the moment.  But I have reason to believe that the Order of the Phoenix is trying to secure his loyalties to Pheta."

            He collapsed on the ground panting.  "Okay," he managed to choke out.  "I think I'm done."  His black hair was plastered heavily to his forehead while his whole body felt like it had been through a wringer several times over.  Night's breath came out in short gasps from his exhaustion and he really didn't think he could get up.  

            But he had been in non-stop training with Zylle for the past six hours.  His adoptive mother had taken the day off her job at the London Broadcasting Network to help train him.  Actually, she was given a whole week's vacation.  Her boss understood that she had family things and holidays to take care of, so he let her off.  So, during the week, Zylle would be one of those watching and overseeing the tournament while having a few days left over for general rest.

            Night admitted he felt guilty for making her work harder.  She had, after all, spent hours with numerous elementals and in the library researching the properties of stardust.  Apparently, Zylle had been inspired by what Dr. Annie said about the substance when it got into his hair.  Stardust's unique effect of increasing defensive power and resistance against magic made it the ideal strengthen tool for the wards around Grey Tower.  But it took quite a bit of magic to make the stuff and even more work to distribute it around the town.  This probably wasn't doing her much good, but she insisted that he get one more lesson from her before the tournament.

            _"Besides,"_ she had said.  _"I can't let you go out there without one last lesson from me."_

            Unfortunately for Night, he didn't know she meant going all out on him.  Throughout the entire fight, he had to use everything he had ever learned in Grey Tower and about elemental magic.  Speed, timing, skill, and more were required just to ensure that his head wouldn't get slashed off.  And **that **wasn't even counting her elemental magic attacks!

            Zylle Hawking wasn't the Black Dragon of the Arashi-Tenku for nothing.

            Kneeling down to his level, she said, "Yep.  You've had enough, kiddo."

            "I hadn't noticed," was the dry reply.

            She smiled affectionately.  "I'm afraid that it's a Hawking tradition to wear the trainee down until they couldn't get up."  But she frowned in thought.  "No…it's a Vartar tradition.  It came from Mum's side of the family."

            Pulling himself up in a sitting position, he remarked, "You never mention them."

            "Because they are all gone.  Other than my mother – and now you – I have no other family."  Zylle laughed lightly.  "Not even cousins or distant relatives."

            "How do you-"

            "There's a record book in the library of every clan member and their family line.  Didn't Mum tell you?"

            His ears pricked.  "Every clan member?" was his curious question.  If this were true…if Zylle wasn't kidding him…then his answers could be found in one simple book…

            Zylle, however, beat him to it.  It was not hard for her to figure out what was going through his mind.  His sudden attentiveness, his covert glance at the dragon of the stormy skies on his left arm, the shine of hope in gray concealed green eyes.  Night may have been exhausted and physically drained, but it was obvious what his idea was.  "Though the book does show ancestry, it doesn't work for you.  An elemental must be _aware_ of their past to do so.  If you were abandoned or an orphan in an institution, you wouldn't even have to meet your parents to look and find the answers.  But you need to have past memories – _a complete memory – _to know."  She gave him a sad smile and put a finger to his lips when he tried to contest her statement.  "Yes, I looked just in case there was a glitch or anything.  But there wasn't a single thing for your past."

            Night closed his eyes and sighed in self-pity.  He scolded himself for getting his hopes up.  Of course, it wouldn't be that easy.  He had the feeling that life would never be that way for him.  Did he just attract mystery and danger?  It certainly seemed so with his amnesia, the fact that the Phantoms were targeting him, and whatnot.  At first, he thought that his association with Zylle could put her in danger.  But he soon realized this epiphany:  Zylle was an adult and she, along with Gran, _loved_ him.  Even if he did try to run away in an attempt to shield her, he knew instinctively that they would come looking for him.  And no doubt find him.  Zylle and Gran could take care of themselves very well.  She had been doing so for years, long before he had come into their lives.  And both were Black Dragons.  Gran may have been elderly, but she was still a formidable fighter.  And Zylle even more so.

            But what happened?  What happened that made all this occur?  Something must have triggered all this.  How did he end up in a hospital, healed but hearing that if he had come in just a few minutes later he could have died?  The fact that he had been to what he could only call another world was also a good question.  Why did he end up in Lethe, the dark realm of oblivion, and the last stopping place for souls before they were given judgment?  Who was the Dark Lady and why did she protect him out of all people?  What was his past?

            Unbidden, words came to his mind.  _Terrible things happen in the world, no matter how much we try to kid ourselves that this is not the case.  There are good things too, frightfully much less in number than the bad.  But that makes the good seem all the more better, I suppose_.  Tom had said that, with a heavy grief ingrained in his voice.  Right at that moment, Night could definitely believe that Tom had been through a lot.  And that it hurt much more than he let on.

            He snapped back to reality when he found himself wrapped in a motherly hug.  Zylle had encircled him in a warm embrace, one that he easily returned.  Even if he didn't know his past or what happened to him to make this all come about, he was grateful.  He had family.  

            The lights of London were bright even if it were the dead of night.  But for once, the sky was clear as crystal.  It was unfortunate that no one would notice this change in the sky.  Any experienced person who lived in the city knew that all light from the stars was faded out by the harsh illumination that came from streetlamps and electricity.  Often, thick and hazy clouds covered the expanse until dawn and morning breezes blew them away. Cars made harsh sounds as they drove by on silent streets, able to be heard for blocks on end.  Yet, those who lay sleeping in their houses did not stir.  Or if they did, they quickly fell back into the realm of their subconscious mind.  Hypnos did his work well.  

            Tonight, around the world, things were happening.  For this night, this one night, was a sacred time.  Shamans in the far southern lands of Africa danced around fires to the beat of fast-paced drums, fragrant smoke rising into the night sky.  Ritualists sacrificed one sacred animal and drank to the future.  In the Dark Tower, far from the sight of normal men and wizards, the dark justices prayed and gave thanks.  Vampires looked up to the red orb, once pure white, hanging in the sky and gave reverence.  These and many others who lay hidden from the muggles and wizards celebrated in their own ways this event.  One of the great holidays of magic:  the Night of the Scarlet Moon, where magic prepared for its eventual renewal on the Night of Winter Rebirth.  Even muggles, so unaware of the wonders that went on around them, knew that day: they called it Winter Solstice.  But the Night of the Scarlet Moon had to occur.  For now, that was on the mind of many a magic user.

            They say that odd things happened then.  Strange things.  Travelers spoke of shadows that spoke in the night, of dread beasts in the dark sanctuary of mysterious forests, and of spectral dogs stalking the pale gravestones of the deceased.  Hecatians, those who practiced their magic in the name of the witch goddess of darkness, spoke of a foreign divinity not from this earth, but from another, where sorcery was as commonplace as trees were.  A goddess who came from a paradise planet to gaze in a spectacular show of power upon the small blue sphere that was their home in pity.  They called said that sometimes she walked on the earth, watching the world while wearing a bright red cloak.  Lunitari, they called her, goddess of the red moon.  But whether the myths of this itinerant goddess were true were not proven.

            One deity did know the truth of this.  Actually, several knew.  But she, like the rest of them, would not say.  She saw no reason to.  Also, the younger gods who did not know would interfere if they did.  Young ones.  They were always rushing into things…never using foresight to see if their actions were the best for the time.  

            For mortals, she could give some leeway.  After all, they had only a short time period of life.  Though that was from her point of view.  She was a goddess, forever immortal unless killed by her creator or by one of the Harbingers.  But the Universe was apathetic to the fate of this planet and had moved on to others.  As for the Harbingers, she was certain they were somewhere.  Their punishment – something she herself could not imagine going through – they were alive.  The Universe had created the Harbingers, the bringers of annihilation, revolution, and rebirth.  Which meant that though the Almighty could punish them all he liked, they could never die by his hand.

            Though things would be so much simpler if they were around.  Pheta's plans would have been halted at the beginning and none of this needless bloodshed would have to occur.  If the Harbingers had been alive, her daughter's heart would never have been broken.  If they had been alive, the threat of the Dark Gateway opening would be naught but nil.  Her children would not be worrying about their own descendants living on the mortal plane.  The Harbingers had brought a balance to the universe that not just anyone could fill.

            Alas, it was different.  And she knew better to dwell on 'what if's.  She missed them terribly:  they weren't that bad when they were not doing their job.  And she was certain Erebus and her sister-in-laws, Destiny and Hecate, shared her opinion.  She doubted that many others did.  She was one of the oldest gods to ever exist and they lacked much knowledge that millennia of experience had brought her.

            It was not as if she wasn't happy with what she had.  On the contrary, she was quite pleased.  She had a loving husband (who was at times unbearably cute – though he being who he was would **never** admit that) and practically a litter of children.  Even though now and then they did foolish things, she cared for them, even when she was supposedly 'yelling' at them.  She personally thought of it as discipline.

            There was a special reason why she was out on this night of all nights, excluding the fact that this was a hallowed and consecrated evening.  She had an appointment to keep.  One made by her meddling sister-in-law and a descendant of hers through one of her daughters.  Ah, there he was.

            Lady Nyx stood on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in London, as dramatic and queenly as ever.  She wore a black sophisticated garment in the fashion of the women of ancient Greece.  She had been quite taken with that period of time.  Pity it had to end.  Around her shoulders and held loosely in her pale hands was the cloak of the night, dark blue and studded with diamonds.  It was much different than the light blue and white shades that her counterpart, the day goddess Hemera, carried.  Brown eyes brimming with age-old wisdom and alarming in what appeared to be a forty-something face, focused on something not too far away in the distance.  Her wavy white locks, much softer and more refined than those of her daughter Artemis', moved slightly with the gentle breezes of this evening.  She had planned it this way, of course.  Being the goddess of the night had a lot of perks.  

            In the blink of an eye, she vanished to appear somewhere else.  That somewhere else happened to be the elemental community of Grey Tower Town.  There were a few things that she recognized from the original town.  The old guardhouse had been turned into a school and the ancient tower's basement into a hospital.  A majority of the houses were also quite old, those in particular belonging in the territories of the Sekai-Kage.  It was unfortunate that they had died out.  That clan was truly admirable.

            She had finally found him.  When Destiny had come calling and spoke of this boy, she was not kidding when she said he took after the family quite a bit.  His dark hair was similar to those that her husband, a majority of her sons, and her daughter – his ancestor – possessed.  He also had their eyes, but she noticed that her high cheekbones and facial structure had shone through as in Melania.  Emerald green eyes were beginning to take on the characteristic specks, no doubt from being in a healthy environment with a lot of contact with her family.  Though she wondered why he had that particular substance in his hair.  Stardust was a very common magical defense amplifier.  But why his hair?  If he would've have done just as well by making a small object of it.  But to each his own, she supposed.  Hopefully, Thanatos would not get any ideas of his own.  Nyx had nearly died when he came back that one time with a mohawk in a violently revolting green.  Thankfully, Erebus had resolved it quickly.  Gold and silver in his hair was not as shocking as **that**.

            He was sitting on the roof of the Hawking familial home.  The house – Number 14, if she recalled correctly – let her through its protective shields with no protest.  Quietly approaching him, she noticed several disconcerting things about him.  He was still frightfully thin and short, even if he was recovering.  Years of abuse and neglect on the body were always hard to reverse.  But there were good signs as well.  Nyx had observed the boy several times before and she had never seen that spark of liveliness and contentment in his eyes before.  She had seen depression, rebellion, anger, sadness, and resignation, but rarely anything else.  And his shoulders were no longer slouched as if wanting to hide in a corner.  And she had to admit that he had a good memory to remember something as trivial a meeting as this.  He was at peace and it was good for her old eyes to see.

            "Hello, Nuitari," she said kindly.  She suppressed a grin at his startled expression.  His eyes, once so hardened that were the remnants of sights no child should ever see, were newly expressive in their emotions.  But he swiftly hid them once more.  Quickly, she took a slight look around their surroundings.  White Owl, her husband's former servant, and that destructive spirit, Kardis, were not near them.  No doubt they were taking advantage of the night's magic.

            "You must be the night goddess," he said uncertainly.  He had doubt in Destiny.  How utterly unsurprising.  Though she herself often wondered what the shorthaired deity was doing.

            "You are correct."

            "And that you would help me," he continued, still appearing to not trust in fate.  

            She sat down on the slate roof tiles next to him.  "I will try my best," she responded.  "But that does not mean I will answer every question you have."  He nodded resignedly.  Apparently, he was used to being kept in the dark about such things.  "The answers will come to you soon, child.  But you must be patient."

            "I'm not very good at being patient, Lady."

            Nyx repressed the urge to laugh outright.  It would've been rude to do so.  But how many times had she heard that same line uttered by Erebus under his breath, by Thanatos in frustration, and by Melania in her well-placed anger?  It was amusing to her that such traits could be passed down through centuries, nearly a millennium, of generations.  "Some things are best not to be revealed," she said wisely, conscious of his curious but reverent gaze.

            "Well," he said.  "Can you tell me what happened in the Eastern Starlands?"  Nuitari shuddered slightly.  "It was so…odd.  I saw something that happened _years_ ago.  And there was something else…something hidden…something that isn't supposed to be shown to me…yet.  I was seeing things and feeling things that were…unexplainable."

            Ah.  He had silver sight.  It certainly explained why Melania had commissioned White Owl to guard him.  The avian had a gift with psychics.  Pheta had gotten so close to Tom by manipulating the silver sight to show him gruesome images of torture and pain to weaken his mind while allowing the demon greater control of the body.  When she had been informed, this had upset her greatly.  Silver sight was her own ability passed to her children; no other gods possessed this.  "That was silver sight," she explained.  "A psychic technique.  It enables you to see the unseen, the unknown, the mysterious, and even in some respects the future."

            "The future."

            "Very indirectly.  The clues are there.  It takes you to string them together."

            "That's why," he said, more to himself than to her.  "Something is going to happen that dealt with the Sekai-Kage…"

            "That would be my guess."

            He then turned completely to her, his green eyes hopeful and inquiring.  He was going to ask the question.  It was the question that she could not answer just yet.  For a moment, she was reminded of one of the Harbingers.  Though she shook this thought out of her head.

            "Do you know about my past?"

            She sighed sadly, "…Yes."

            Nyx could feel his excitement.  It would be heartbreaking to tell him this.  Should she tell him?  But talking of his past would probably cause just as much pain.  No.  It would be best that he get a firm foothold here, where he had love and proper care, before he returned to the wizarding world.  A journey back to cruelty and despair, it would certainly be.

            "Can you tell me?"  Suddenly, the hope vanished from his face like salt in water.  "You can't, can you?"

            "No."

            "Figures," he muttered.  "No one seems to want me to know."

            "Nuitari…" she began, before breaking off.  She didn't want to show too much favoritism.  "I'm afraid to say it is for your own good that you don't remember."

            Nuitari was startlingly perceptive.  "It was bad, wasn't it?  I was found nearly dead in a park.  No one wants me to remember, not even my own mind.  It was horrible, wasn't it, Lady?"  All this was said in an accusing and resentful tone, but it was to be expected.

            "Sometimes," she said slowly.  "It's best not to remember to protect ourselves from even greater harm."

            Nuitari's eyes narrowed.  "But isn't the thought of not knowing cruel enough?"

            "Cruelty."  The word sounded macabre even to her ears.  "It is cruel.  But it is necessary."

            And the moon, it's usual pearl white visage tainted with the scarlet hue of blood, shone down on the Earth that night.

***

**Note:  This all takes course over the final week before the tournament.  It didn't happen all in one day.**

Parents and relatives!  Delayed again!  Ugh!  I had to get off the Internet before I could upload this.  Not happy…

But 13 full pages!  You have to give me credit for that!  This is now the longest chapter of Elemental Genesis.  

Review page will hopefully be up either later on tonight or tomorrow.  Fingers hurting…

Hope you liked the chapter!  There was **a lot** of Harry in this one…

Thanks to all of you for being patient.

~Raven Dragonclaw


	28. The First Rounds

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter 28:  The First Rounds

            If the beauty with the red mottled violet hair had any concerns over what was going on the mortal plane, then she didn't show it.  Unlike most light goddesses, she wore a garment of all colors, but it was designed in a way that did not clash together into an artistic catastrophe.  Though she was stunning in her own unique way, most did not acknowledge this.  No, they were busy looking at the blonde locks and flirtatious lavender eyes of her elder sister Pheta.  They had gotten her sister plenty of admirers and worshippers.  Though there was a few that appreciated her good looks, few those people may be.

            Her view of what was going on was very clear from where she was.  Only a few wispy clouds blocked her vision.  Such was the advantage of Castle in the Sky.  The structure floated spectacularly above the white expanse of ice that was the northern pole of Earth.  None of the mortals' technology or magic could locate it because of the shields and wards place on it for its own protection.  A classical castle with turrets, towers, and windows galore:  it was the gods' closest tangible outlook onto Earth and the affairs of the mortal beings.  The building had the right amount of curves and angles, making it the peak of architectural mastery.  Even now, on the main tower's viewing deck, bright light from the sun permeated through brightly colored stained crystal windows.  It would be very different in a few months.  When winter came, the moon would be the one casting the light.  And cold Artemis' moonbeams were as different from Helios' sunrays as fire was to water.  It was another example of the balance of light and dark in the universe.  She had never understood the meanings or the stories behind what the windows depicted, but she could logically assume they were from the Lost Ages.  Both her parents refused to speak of the golden ages of the Universe before Earth's creation.  It still brought back painful memories for them.  She stood looking over into the distance, her pale hands leaning on the ornately carved stone balcony.

            Though most of the minor light gods preferred not to come to this place, such major deities as Helios, Sekhmet, and herself often stopped by.  Why the other light gods had such an aversion to this place was probably due to the fact that the Harbingers had built the place long ago as a gateway to their respective dark realms.  Those gateways have long been locked and shut.  Not even the dark gods could go into them.  She had never known the Harbingers, but her mother had.  Hemera, goddess of day, was around in the time of the Harbingers and remembered them well.  In particular, she praised the artistry and creativity of one Harbinger:  Megami, the Midnight Harbinger.  Supposedly, Megami had been the one to design most of the castle.  But alas, she and the rest of the Harbingers were gone just as the golden age had.

            "Looking for something, Iris?"  The new voice was unnervingly loud in the silent sanctuary.  Iris knew it very well.  What deity did not know it?  Only one particular god had that exact tone which possessed both humor and wry amusement.  And that god happened to be a dark deity.  Turning around, she was that she was right.  He was standing right there, leaning against a pillar, with a smile that held both enjoyment and sardonic wit.  Iris noted that he wasn't as casual as he usually was.  His black robes were decorated in the characteristic silver that showed he was dark and he wore a long sleeved dress shirt instead of a t-shirt.  Also, it was a shock to seem him out of…what did the mortals call them…jeans.

            Yes, Thanatos did not look like his normal self today.

            "Not really," she replied back, albeit a bit late.  "I'm just enjoying the view."

            "Right.  Don't kid yourself.  I know you aren't enjoying what you see at all."  She cursed him silently.  How did he know all that he did?  True, he was the god of death himself, but even so.  Only Thanatos could get on her nerves like this.

            Angrily, she countered, "Well, I don't use this place to_ spy _on people like you do.  I wonder what those poor mortal girls you find happen to find attractive would think if they knew."

            His blue eyes now glinted in amusement.  "I don't do that so often now.  But I should think they'd be complimented.  Anyway, you get a much better view when you are among them literally."  She scowled, knowing full well what he meant.  He was one of the few gods who could freely walk around in the mortal plane with powers intact, though masquerading as a normal human.  "Also," he added dryly.  "Do I hear a bit of _jealousy_ in that accusation, my dear light goddess?" 

            Iris threw her hands up in the air in disgust.  There was no reasoning with him.  "I give up on you.  You're…you're just…infuriating!"  She grimaced even more as his appreciative laughter rang through the hushed haven.  Still furious, she asked, "What's with you anyway?  Why are you so happy, Thanatos?!"

            "The pieces are moving into play," Thanatos responded, still smiling as if nothing were wrong in the world.  Which was definitely not the case.  He strode up to the balcony and looked over the edge in an unconcerned, easy sophistication that was all his own.  Thanatos always confused her.  Sometimes he was as straightforward and funny as the god of laughter himself and at other times more mysterious and haunting than even his mother, the great goddess of the night, could be.  Iris knew that Thanatos, despite his laid-back behavior, was much more cunning and intelligent than he let on.  "I'm sure you know of your sister's plans?"

            "Of course.  She's wanted to take out your sister's descendants for years.  That's nothing new."

            "Really?" he inquired, intrigue slipping into his tenor.  "Nothing more?"

            This caught her attention.  "What more could there be?  It's not like she's going to do anything other than that.  Her only targets are Harry Potter and Tom Riddle."  Why would there be more?  Pheta's grudge with the gods of darkness was a well-known fact.  It had even driven away the Chaos and the Universe.  Iris stayed out of her sister's actions most of the time.  They had never really gotten along well.

            "So, you don't know…pity."

            Now her curiosity was piqued.

            "WELCOME, EVERYONE, TO THE START OF THE GREY TOWER TOURNAMENTS!"

            The crowd around the raised platform erupted with cheers and whoops of happiness.  Night, with Hedwig perched on his shoulder and Shadow close at his feet, looked around nervously.  His mother was not with him, since she had responsibilities up on the stage.  All the leaders of each clan had to be present on the dais during this time.  And even during the tournament itself, she could only see him briefly.  Zylle couldn't show favoritism and she had to act as a judge.  The same went for Professor Coulter, Mirai Alucard, and Jonathan Smythe.  Gran and Hans were standing next to him in the mob though, their presence comforting to his fraying sense of confidence in his skills.  Catching his mother's serious gray gaze, he tried to reassure her that he was fine through a smile.  But inside, he was practically quivering with nerves.  

            The opening ceremonies of the tournaments would occur here in the center of Grey Tower, Aiken-Quincy Park.  All the stores and shops were closed, as were the roads.  The reinforced wards were also up.  No one – absolutely no one – was getting into the town during the tournament.  This isolation from the rest of the world for this period of time was a time-honored tradition.  Everyone in town was gathered here.  It was supposed to strengthen the unity between the clans before they separated back to their own territories to choose who would be their next leaders.  All around him were members not only of his own clan, but also of the Seijaku-Shinrin, the Kiri-Kaminari, the Eikou-Taiyou, and the Rekka-Ki.  Of course, before the Phantom Wars, there had been many more clans for this observance.  They were all exulting for the same reasons:  the beginning of the new generation as they saw it and in the lasting harmony between the clans.  It may be true that there were some petty rivalries between them, but a common belief in their magic and philosophies kept them together.  When all the tournaments ended, there would be another ceremony here to formally proclaim them as the future leaders before a giant celebration.

            Aldric Barron's strong and deep voice on the microphone broke over them like a wave.  The well-built archaeologist was chosen for this job especially.  His charisma and enthusiasm affected the crowd greatly.  You could see in his dancing brown eyes that he was excited and that same exhilaration was contagious.  Night felt his nervousness slip away slightly at the sound of it.  It was only slightly, though.  Then again, the Red Unicorn of the Eikou-Taiyou had his own television show.  That certainly said something.

            "As you all know, the tournaments are our way of weeding out the weak and unworthy, the strong and the loyal, the intelligent and the cunning.  It is through these competitions that we choose who will be our leaders in the future, who we will look to for guidance in times of peace and in crisis."  Murmurs erupted around him at the mention of a crisis.  Looking past Barron, he saw Jonathan Smythe muttering quietly to his mother and Professor Coulter next to him making a snide remark.  Glancing at Gran and Hans, he saw that their faces had become inscrutable.  Night knew what Barron meant.  He was talking about the Phantom Elementals.

            Barron continued over the mutters of the horde.  "Though our clans do have their own traditions and ways of doing their own tournaments, there are several rules that apply to all of them.  Competitors should pay especial attention to this as they could be disqualified if these mandates are broken."  He felt Shadow rub his leg comfortingly and Hedwig nipped his ear affectionately.  From the past few days, he noticed the animals seemed to sense his feelings.  Night just assumed this was the normal result of having pets that were close to you.

            "First off, there will be no endangering the crowd.  If there are injuries, limit them to your _opponent_."  Gran snickered.  He cracked a small smile, knowing what she was thinking.  The rule had been put in place because of Suiko-Tsuki Panthers (before the Phantom Wars) whose members learned very destructive techniques.

            "Second, there will be no use of outside objects.  You are to use only your body, your mind, and your magic.  No outside weapons are allowed."  This wasn't really a problem.

            "Third, any use of amplifiers or any other type of magic is prohibited!  The competitor will be immediately disqualified."  Night didn't have any magical amplifiers, so it really wasn't a big deal for him.  The leaders approved the stardust in his hair, as the substance usually strengthened defensive power, so he was all right.  And he had been warned against wizarding magic.

            "Fourth, if knocked out of the ring or struck down, there is a twelve second count.  If the elemental does not get up or back into the ring in these twelve seconds, then they lose."

            "And lastly," Barron boomed out.  "There will be **_no killing or taking the life of another_**."  A slight shiver ran through him.  People had to have died in order for that rule to be in place.  Normally, the clans instilled in their members that in a friendly and formal duel that you should not kill your opponent.  In times of emergency, the rule could be bent, but in this case it wouldn't.

            "Now, I wish all competitors the best of luck.  LET THE TOURNAMENTS BEGIN!"

            "Don't be nervous and be careful…"

            "I know…"

            "Make sure you do your best…"

            "Right, I will…

            "And remember that it doesn't matter to me if you win or you lose…"

            "Mum!"

            Zylle just smiled coyly at him, she said, "I can't help it."   With a motherly kiss on his cheek and a mussing of his stardust-highlighted hair, she quickly said, "I love you," before leaving him.  He knew that she'd be cheering him on, though as a judge she was supposed to be impartial, and it felt good that she was there.  Gran also gave him a good luck embrace and Hans just laughed heartily while giving him an encouraging clap on the back, which nearly sent him reeling.  Hans was pretty strong for an old man.  Feeling like he was walking on air, he made his way to where the competitors were to watch the matches, taking a seat in between Trina and Bran.  Beyond Bran were several other entrants in the Arashi-Tenku tournament, including Simeon Bradley, loftily talking to a girl who really wasn't paying attention.  Sitting right next to Trina was Mordecai Freely, who seemed to be looking at the ring with a mix of apprehension and determination.  

            Bran looked as unshaken as ever, but when Night looked closely at his cold blue eyes, he could see the underlying nervousness that he was certain he was showing as well.  Trina was also making a valiant attempt to hide her emotions, though she wasn't nearly as successful.  The main thing that all those going to fight all had in common was the style of clothing that they wore, though in different colors.  All of them wore a shirt with a high collar and long sleeves, well-fitting jeans, sneakers, and fighting gloves.  The shirts had the Arashi-Tenku Dragon on the left arm (where the actual tattoo was).  Night had removed his glasses and replaced them with his gray contacts for obvious reasons.  His shirt was emerald green and gray with black jeans.  Trina wore yellow and blue while Bran went for red and black. 

            Where the Arashi-Tenku tournament was taking place was in a massive underground room deep beneath Dragon territory.  It was an impressive room.  Stands lined the walls for the spectators were to sit, higher than the ring for a better view.  At the moment, Night doubted another person could fit on them.  The walls were of sheer rock, rough and ancient in the light of cold blue flames.  The ring was in the center of the room, circular and slightly higher than the ground.  Different colored stones lined the walls separating the ring from the stands, designed to shield the audience from attacks, debris, or elementals sent flying.  Separate places were set up for the participants and the current leaders to sit.  Night sat with those going to fight.  Across the room in the leader's box, Zylle sat with the others.

            After a few moments, Zylle stood up.  The viewers gradually quieted themselves as Zylle attracted their attention.  Once there was a silence, Zylle spoke clearly into the megaphone.  Professor Coulter next to her was looking particularly condescending while Mirai seemed to be the one offsetting the seriousness of it all with her red-haired good looks.  Jonathan Smythe, Trina's father, was watching Trina intently and he could see that she was squirming slightly.

            "Welcome to the Arashi-Tenku Tournament," Zylle said seriously.  Like the fighters, the leaders wore similar outfits.  Zylle's was a plain gray and black; she wasn't trying to gain attention to herself.  "The rules have already been explained, so I feel no need to repeat them.  If a fighter does commit an offense that they did not know was illegal because they weren't listening, then they are disqualified nevertheless.  It is their own fault they weren't paying attention."  Night, Bran, and Trina all looked at Simeon Bradley, who wasn't listening to a word Zylle was saying.  "The tournament will take place over the course of three days."  Gran said this was to allow rest for the winning fighters.

            "The first round matches will begin immediately.  The matches will be held in this order:

                        Match 1.  Vega Rowan vs. Triana Smythe."

Trina blinked in surprise and looked slightly green.  Obviously, she wasn't expecting to be in the first match.

                        "Match 2:  Mordecai Freely vs. Raymond Alderson"

            Next to Trina, the water elemental straightened himself in his seat.  To Night's curiosity, he started to peruse the crowd.  He apparently found something, or someone, that he didn't like and frowned in uneasiness.

                        "Match 3:  Kira Franklin vs. Bran Ravencroft."

            "At least she said my nickname.  They're certainly sending us up quick," muttered Bran.  Night was inclined to agree and was going to do so, but Zylle was speaking again.

                        "Match 4:  Simeon Bradley vs. William Hale."

            "I'll win for sure," Simeon kept telling that girl, who looked as if she wanted to run out of there right then and there.

                        "Match 5:  Ayame Hinomori vs. Nuitari Hawking."

            Whispers broke out at the mention of his name.  It was unsurprising really.  He was competing with only a month's training and he was the son of the current Black Dragon.  Night looked over past Mordecai, towards Ayame.  The black-haired Japanese girl didn't seem too troubled by the match up.

                        "Match 6:  Pierce Rowan vs. Helena Taylor."

            Pierce didn't look too anxious.  Knowing the older teen, he was in there just for fun.  Helena, a shorthaired blond, also appeared to be doing this for kicks.  It was unsurprising.  They were boyfriend and girlfriend.

                        "Match 7:  Lee Seldon vs. Calvin Springfield."

            Calvin Springfield was _thankfully_ clothed, but he didn't look that happy.  Not that Night could blame him at all.  Gran had said that Calvin's mother forced him to compete.  Lee Seldon was a normal guy that Night had made the acquaintance of, but didn't know that well.

                        "And the last match of the day:  Neve Vlotskya vs. Mariya Bradley."

            Night looked around.  He didn't know that Simeon had a sister.  Sure enough, he noticed a girl that resembled Simeon a lot who was an earth elemental.  She seemed pretty quiet and didn't stand out that much.

                        "Will Vega Rowan and Triana Smythe please step into the ring for the first match?"

            Trina got up, shaking slightly on her feet.  Night looked at her in worry.  So did Bran.  Though the two often got into arguments over little things (which were usually funny), they did care about the other's well being a lot.  Being longtime friends as they were tended to do that.

            Night asked, concerned for her, "Trina, are you going to be alright?"

            "Personally, I feel a bit sick."

            "Well, if you throw up on Vega, that might distract her enough for you to take the win," Bran replied sarcastically.  He wasn't being mean towards her, he was just trying to make light of the situation.

            "I'm sure that'll be memorable.  Trina Smythe wins by vomiting over opponent.  Where's the honor in that?"  Night shook his head.  They just wouldn't quit.  "Wish me luck, guys," she said.  To the surprise of both himself and Bran, they were the recipients of large hugs before their friend made her way to the ring.

            Trina had her rose ready in her hand when she stepped into the fighting ground.  With a quick flick of her wrist and a flurry of red rose petals, the rose whip appeared.  It was held prepared by Trina in a defense stance.  Even from where he was sitting, Night could see the wicked thorns on the weapon.  The anxiety seemed to disappear slightly from her face.

            Vega Rowan was very different from her cousin, Pierce.  Trina was very petite, even shorter than Night was, but Vega literally towered over her.  The girl, a few years their senior and wearing a fierce expression, was nearly six feet tall.  Trina looked unbelievably short compared to her.  It would be an interesting fight, since Vega was a fire elemental.  Trina would be at a disadvantage, but Night was certain she would pull through.  She had beaten down Bran plenty of times to prove that fact.

            Mirai's voice came out on the microphone.  "Let the match begin!"

            Trina was right to start out on the defense.  Vega had already launched an attack.  Using her elemental weapons – which were similar to brass knuckles, except with claws made out of fire on her hands– she slashed at his friend.  Trina, though, had the sense enough to duck.  The assault missed and gave Trina the advantage to off-balance Vega.  With a swift kick to the legs, she nearly did so, but Vega managed to regain her balance in mid-fall and clawed Trina's face and shirt.  

            It was first blood.  He winced in sympathy.  Three gashes ran down her cheek, staining the yellow fabric that was also cut.  The crowd, cheering loudly, was thrown into frenzy.

            Apparently, that did it.  Night himself knew that getting Trina mad was never a good thing.  And with her brown eyes flashing angrily, she wasn't going to show any mercy.

            Once more, Vega charged.  Night was at first impressed by her weapons, but now saw the faults in them.  In order to do anything with them, you had to always charge.  And they seemed very weak defensively.  Thinking ahead, Trina used her rose whip to counter it by slashing her whip at Vega's abdomen, knocking the wind out of her.  Then Trina charged herself, giving Vega a sharp punch to the stomach, using her small frame has an advantage.  Lastly, she bicycle-kicked her opponent into the shield, getting surprised 'oh!'s from the crowd.

            Vega didn't get up.  She was clearly knocked out from impact.

            Mirai's cheery voice announced, "Match one goes to Triana Smythe!"  Standing up, he and Bran applauded Trina's victory.  Trina didn't return to the competitor's stands yet.  She was herded off to the side, where there were several medics.  Dr. Annie wasn't one of them.  No, he was overseeing the matches in the Kiri-Kaminari tournament.

            "Will Mordecai Freely and Raymond Alderson step into the ring for match two?"

            The boy with the blue eyes and spiky light brown hair walked confidently into the ring.  Whispers soon racked the crowd.  Night was certain he knew what they were about.  Mordecai Freely was easily an unknown in this match.  Though Night was fairly sure that the family name struck a bell.  Some were murmuring the name "Freely" with malice or fear.

            Raymond Alderson was otherwise a normal elemental.  If Night was correct in his aura reading, then this guy was a wind elemental like himself.  But he seemed a bit too sure of himself.  Night knew why.  Wind elementals had control over electricity, which water was a great conductor of.  Raymond would go for electric attacks to do the work for him.

            "Let the match begin!"

            It was all too easy to see who would win.  Before Raymond could attack, Mordecai drenched him from head to toe in water.  But nevertheless, the water elemental brought out a water elemental sword.  Compared to the one that Ian Harlan, Black Panther, used it was much stronger and it more suited to its wielder.

            Obviously angry, Raymond fired electricity at Mordecai.  Mordecai quickly dispelled his sword and put up a water shield, with a lot of room between the element and his body.  The electricity jumped on the water shield's surface.  But none of it made it to Mordecai inside.

            Raymond, however, wasn't so lucky.  Being soaked in water, the electricity he used also shocked him.  Night winced.  That jolt looked – and most likely was – very painful.  Raymond collapsed from the shock, unconscious.  Mordecai dispelled his shield with an unreadable expression on his face.  

            "Match two goes to Mordecai Freely!"  There was some appreciative applause and cheering here, but nothing too big.  Night was reminded of what Bran and Trina told him of the water elemental.  Not many people knew him that well.  Medics arrived on the scene to help Raymond off the ring and to receive treatment.  But now Night knew that if he was going to face Mordecai Freely, electricity would _not_ be the way to go.  "Will Bran Ravencroft and Kira Franklin step into the ring for the third match?"

            Bran blinked in bemusement.  I didn't think I would be up so fast."

            "Well," Night responded, "that last fight really didn't take that long."

            "Point.  Wish me luck."

            "Good luck."

            Bran walked up to the ring easily, no signs of anxiety in his stride.  There had to be something there though.  Night's head turned to immediately glare at some of those in the crowd who were booing.  He suppressed the urge to shock them much like Raymond Alderson tried to do to Mordecai Freely.  But then he'd be disqualified.  

            Though they never did say for a _spectator_ to do anything…

            …No.  It wouldn't be right.

            Damn morals.

            Kira was an earth elemental, like Trina.  However, she was using a staff instead of the rose whip.  She was relatively nice and a friend of Trina's yet Night couldn't seem to find anything other than that particularly outstanding about her.  Bran formed a fire elemental sword.  Night shook his head in exasperation, though still smiling wryly.  The only thing Night and Bran disagreed about in combat were swords.  Night went for lighter blades that were easy to handle yet required _a lot_ of skill to master.  Bran went for heavy broadswords.  Then again, Bran was stronger than Night was.

            "Let the match begin!"

            Like Trina had in her first fight, Bran went for the defensive position.  Unfortunately, so did Kira.  They circled each other a few times, waiting for the other to attack.  Night was beginning to get a bit restless.  As was the crowd.  It was clear that Kira was definitely not going to make the first move.  He thought she probably would feel better about attacking if someone had threatened her first.  But it was a bad strategy in this situation.  Fire was a nasty element when angered or frustrated.  Bran had a lot of patience, but even this was visibly getting on his nerves.  After about ten minutes of this, Bran had enough.  

            Bran charged ahead.  This was apparently what Kira was waiting for since she erected a barrier of earth magic in between the two.  But Bran then feinted right, causing her to move the wall, before switching to the left and attacking her undefended side.  He managed one hit, but she brought up her earth staff just in time to parry the second blow.  Night had to give her credit.  She was holding the staff up against Bran's broadsword steadily.

            However, she was no match for Bran's craftiness.  Removing one hand from his sword, he shot a fireball at her, forcing her to relinquish her grip on her weapon.  With a swift slice, he cut the earth staff in half at the same time knocking her out of the ring.  It was a powerful hit and she took a while to recover.  Too long.

            "Match three goes to Bran Ravencroft!"  Like Mordecai before him, it was mostly appreciative applause.  Though Night could definitely make out some booing.  It was probably from Bran's classmates and peers.  The redhead wasn't paying attention.  All he was focused on was waving and grinning at a small group of redheads in the crowd, seeming not to notice any of the public dissent.  "Will Simeon Bradley and William Hale step into the ring for the fourth match?"

            A succession of curses that would make a sailor blush and a mother would be certain to give a tongue lashing for was all that was coming from Bran's mouth.  Not that Night could blame him.  With Simeon Bradley winning 

            "Match four goes to Simeon Bradley!"  "Will Ayame Hinomori and Nuitari Hawking step into the ring for the fifth match?"

            Bran gave him a meaningful look.  "Good luck."  Then, he cracked a grin.  "You better win."

            Trina came back to the competitor's stands, her cheek completely healed and smooth.  Grey Tower's healers were amazing.  But Trina had heard what Bran had said.  She glared at the fire elemental and said comfortingly, "You don't need any luck or need to worry.  I just **know** you're going to win!"  

            He nodded numbly and strode towards the ring, feeling as if he were walking on automatic.  As soon as he stepped into the circular dais, his eyes immediately sought out warm gray.  Zylle gave him a reassuring smile, which he returned.  It wouldn't be so bad.  Ice blue ones that belonged to the person next to her were confident and proud.  Professor Coulter was absolutely certain he would win.  It was easy to see it in her face.  Mirai beside her gave him a good luck grin.

            Ayame stood there waiting in the ring for him.  His gray-covered green gaze was met evenly by expressionless brown.  With a toss of her black hair, she summoned light fire blade and went into an offensive stance.  He had decided he'd go with his water technique with this one.  With a brief shimmer in the air, a blue water staff topped with an ice crystal orb appeared in his hands.  That done, he also moved into an offensive stance.

            "Let the match begin!"

            Both of them had the same idea in mind.  Fire blade met water staff in a clash that caused a few sparks.  She tried to force the sword down on him much like Bran had tried in the last match, but even though Night wasn't the strongest person in the world, he held his own.  After all, all his teachers had caught him in such a situation before.  But in this particular match, he needed to remember what Professor Coulter had taught him.

            He used his skills as a wind elemental to quickly back out of the bind, causing Ayame to fall forward.  As he moved, he caught a glimpse of her surprised face.  But she did a side swipe to slash is leg.  He winced at the pain, but the cut wasn't that deep.  It drew a bit of blood, but it wasn't as serious as Trina's previous injury.

            Acting fast, he quickly brought his staff down on her blade.  It iced up completely.  He grinned in triumph.  It worked.  As Ayame straightened, she too began to smile.  She attempted to make the blade flare up.  But nothing happened.  Professor Coulter was very through when she taught him how to make never-melt ice.  Though he had heard horror stories of it in her classes to boot.  Throwing the weapon aside, she prepared to make another one.  

            But she was too slow.  Taking the opportunity, Night moved behind her to hit her in the side out of the ring.  He made special care to freeze her side to delay her speed, much like Professor Coulter had done in his previous lessons.  She was so shocked by what had happened, that she didn't make it back into the ring in time for the twelve second count.

            "Match five goes to Nuitari Hawking!"  There was a small silence before the stands erupted into applause and cheering.  Night could feel his face flushing.  He didn't think he did anything particularly spectacular or anything.  Looking towards the judges' seats, he saw his mother's eyes alight with pleasure as she applauded.  Mirai was less restrained, giving him thumbs up and whistling shrilly.  Professor Coulter gave him acknowledging nod before angrily turning to Mirai.  Apparently, she hated the whistling.  Though the crowds' ovation, he was sure he heard the hoot of an owl, the purr of a satisfied cat, and the loud cheering of two elderly people.

            Scratch that, he did.  "ALRIGHT, NUITARI!  THAT'S MY BOY!  HE WON!"  Face aflame, he returned to his seat.  Bran gave him a high five while Trina subjected him to a congratulatory hug much like the won she gave to Bran.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mordecai Freely half-smiling while beyond him Simeon Bradley scowled.  When he chanced a look at Zylle, he saw her smiling wider than he had ever seen her smile before.

            "Will Pierce Rowan and Helena Taylor step into the ring for the sixth match?"

            "Are you focusing on the match, Jonathan, or are you thinking about some painting?" asked Lavinia sarcastically. Lavinia herself, Zylle noted, was only watching in muted interest and only really paying attention when four students had come up to the ring.  In particular scrutiny, Nuitari Hawking.  Her son had done quite well in his match.  But this was the first fight.  Who knew what would happen in the next?

            Jonathan barely batted an eyelash.  "Contrary to your belief, Lavinia, I do concentrate on other things than art."  Though it was clear where Jonathan's attention had been the entire time.  He had watched Trina like a hawk throughout all the matches and had been especially concerned when she was slashed in the face.  The medics had healed her up nicely and there wouldn't be any scarring, but Zylle was certain she heard Jonathan mutter threats because his daughter was hurt.  It had taken her a bit of time to calm him down and the girl was now sitting with Bran and Night, but the father was still worried about her.

            Which Zylle could now relate to.  Throughout the match between Nuitari and Ayame Hinomori, Zylle had held her breath and crossed her fingers.  She had only felt true relief once the battle was over.  Though she was ecstatic that her son had won his duel, she was even happier that he wasn't hurt or injured in any way.  She wondered briefly if this was the way her mother felt when she herself fought in her own tournament.  Zylle also wondered if her father would have worried.  She brushed that thought aside quickly though.  She would never know a certain answer to that question, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

            "I'm sure," Lavinia sneered.

            "Give him a break, Vinny," sighed Mirai.  As usual, she was done up in perfect style and taste.  Working in the fashion industry obviously had its benefits.  Zylle was pretty sure that the accessories that Mirai had brought with her and the change of clothes that was shrunk in the designer bag would not be coming out until the fashion show in October according to Mirai.  "He's just worried about Triana."

            "He should stop worrying about her and concentrate on the other matches.  Look, she's fine."

            "I suppose you mean by other matches, you mean Nuitari's?"  Mirai asked with a smile.  "You've done a good job with him," complimented the vampire to Zylle.  "It's been only a month and he's beaten out a person who has been training here for years!  It's an amazing thing."

            "Well," Zylle replied, blushing yet full of pride.  "He's done a lot of work to get this far.  Lessons with Hans, Mum, myself, and Lavinia here had to have been exhausting."

            "He trained with all of you?!  It's no wonder that he's as good as he is."

            "It is true that he is good," Jonathan interrupted.  "But can he make it to the top?  We have a lot of worthy competitors for the title of 'Black Dragon'.  Bran Ravencroft might be able to do it.  The same goes for Mordecai Freely.  Simeon Bradley also stands a chance.  Many factors could influence what happens and who is chosen."

            "I don't care if he makes it or not," Zylle asserted.  "He could have lost and I'd have been happy."

            "Spoken like a true mother," put in a smirking Mirai.  Jonathan only nodded solemnly before returning his attention to the ring.

            "I don't think we'll need to worry about who will win 'Black Dragon'," Lavinia announced.  "Simeon Bradley will never make it.  Ravencroft and Freely have good shots, yes," she continued.  But with a gleam in her ice blue eyes and a cocky smirk, she said, "But Nuitari Hawking will most definitely be the next Black Dragon."

            The three of them sat on the competitor's stands, exhausted.  Though it was true that they had time to rest, they still needed a bit of time to recover from their fights.  So they watched the last remaining fights left to be fought, barely speaking to each other, but somehow understanding what went the minds of the others perfectly.

            Pierce Rowan lost his match to Helena, but it wasn't so bad.  At the end of it, he actually picked her up and swung her around.  It was an amusing sight to see, especially since the victor was almost literally squealing with delight from it.  Though he didn't win, he was pleased for his girlfriend.  Night could hear several wistful gasps from the crowd and a few "aww"s.  

            "That's my girlfriend!" Pierce had proclaimed loudly, while cheering happily.

            "Mr. Rowan, if you don't put your girlfriend down and let the other matches take place, I will turn you into a human icicle!" came the voice of an aggravated Professor Coulter.  She had somehow managed to wrench away the microphone from Mirai.

            Lee Seldon won the match against Calvin Springfield.  It was an obvious outcome.  Calvin really didn't have his heart into it at all.  But what could someone expect from a person who was forced into it when he never wanted to compete?  Looking in the audience, Night could pick out one particularly angry woman glaring daggers at the boy.  

            "He's in for it," he muttered to Bran, who nodded in agreement.  

            In the last match, Mariya Bradley made an upset by defeating the impressive Neve Vlotskya.  Neve had been a cousin to the Rowan family and was generally a nice person with incredible wind ability.  Though Night had to admit her technique lacked style.  He had shaken himself then for sounding so much like Professor Coulter.  But Mariya would be a challenge.  Her stealthy moves often caught the enemy caught the enemy off guard.

            Zylle took the microphone again.  The chattering crowd quieted down once they saw their leader ready to speak.  "This concludes the first round of the Arashi-Tenku tournament.  I would like to congratulate our winners-" Cheers and applause permeated with whistles greeted this and Night could feel his face growing red under the happy gaze of his mother, the pleased look he was getting from Professor Coulter, and the fact that Gran and Hans were screaming out in the stands.  "I TOLD YOU HE'D WIN!  WHOO!  GO, NUITARI!"  He was given many sympathetic looks from his fellow competitors because of this.

            "And of course to those who were defeated for their efforts."  Polite applause pervaded with encouraging phrases now filled the hall.

            "The next round will start tomorrow at ten o'clock sharp.  All competitors must be ready and present here by that time.  Thank you."  As the people started to exit, Night found himself in a flurry of hugs and happy congratulations from Zylle, Gran, Hans, and Mirai.  Professor Coulter, ever restrained and dignified, graced him with a beatific smile before leaving.  Now he knew he had done well.

            And this **before** his faithful owl and cat assaulted him.

            A wild and tempestuous sea broiled and smashed against the stark crags.  The normal green and natural serenity that Avalon's own could not be found in this dark.  The night was completely clear, yet darker than it had ever been.  Far off in the distance, the warm yellow lights of coastal villages signaled to others that there were people; there was a light, in this sudden onset of shadows.  Those mortals did not know why this darkness had beset them.

            But they had no need to fear it.  To those causing the darkness, it was merely a family reunion of sorts.  It would be a notable mark in history if one cared to record it.  The three ancient deities of darkness met on the mortal plane for the first time in five millennia.  Often, they preferred to meet in the shadowed halls of Tartarus or in the forgetful atmosphere that was Lethe.  Avalon, though, seemed the appropriate place to have their meeting.

            Avalon was a green country, shielded from the rest of the world through rolling mists and dangerous whirlpools.  And if one did manage to get past the whirlpools, then they had to climb the dangerous cliffs, where one misplaced hand or foot could send a person falling to their demise.  It was why the inhabitants of this isle chose it for their home.  Winds from all directions blew over it, giving the home of these people its name.

            Above them was a tower made of a roughly hewn dark stone, which was engraved, with mysterious runes and pictograms of lost languages.  Pale lights, which resembled moonlight, shone through its windows and into the suffocating doom.  No mortal could see this tower, the shields were far too strong and it was Unplottable.  It was a veritable stronghold.  This was the Fala de Aura Tenebrae, Tower of the Dark Wind.  It was here that the greatest amount of Dark magic users was gathered.  The dark justices were a secretive group, but well informed of what went on outside their island through a system of trained agents who could return to Avalon in a moment's flash.  How they would deal with what was to come would be their own choice.

            But if only they knew who was on their island…

            "So, my sisters," a strong voice proclaimed.  "We meet once more."  Erebus of Tartarus stood as imposing as ever.  His black armor seemed to suck in all the light from around him and his black cloak blew around his body in an almost unreal manner.  His blue eyes, specked with gold and silver, were a mix of emotions.  Black hair was made even messier by the forceful winds.

            "It is true," said a calm, clear voice.  Destiny stood sat on a large rock jutting from the ground.  Her black robes, emblazoned with the Seal of Tartarus, did the same as Erebus' cloak.  Large gold bangles inscribed with runes hung heavily from her ears and her hazel eyes were alive with interest.  "We haven't met in a while.  But that is hardly our fault is it, Hecate?"

            Another woman appeared, her vibrant jade green eyes only showing wisdom and contempt.  "Do not blame me for not appearing to you before.  I have had better things to do."  She wore long black robes with areas of dark blue in certain places.  The tall woman with the long black hair tapped her heeled boots against the stone of the cliffs impatiently.  "Why are we here?"

            "We have much to discuss, Hecate," proclaimed Erebus cryptically.

            "I'm sure we do," she countered.  "But is it _worth_ my time?"

            Destiny scowled, "I'm sure you'll get something out of this."

            Hecate looked at her sister imperiously.  "And what would that be?"

            "Did you know you acted just like Artemis did right there?"

            "If we are going to discuss nothing-

            "Silence, Destiny.  I want to know something before we continue our discussion elsewhere, Hecate.  The dark justices will certainly sense our presences soon."

            The witch goddess sighed, "What would you like to know?"

            "Do the wizards still believe that Harry Potter is a descendant of Pheta Vaneria?"

            "Yes.  They assume far too much.  Just because Pheta took the form of Godric Gryffindor's wife…"

            Erebus angrily interrupted, "It wasn't _her_ fault!"

            "I was not blaming your daughter.  Though the entire grudge between the two is built on that."

            "Melania has nothing against her descendants through Gryffindor or those who have belonged to his house through the school of Hogwarts.  It's only towards the man himself.  Gryffindor's attraction was completely one-sided and Melania was **happily married **to someone at the time.  Besides, you know well enough what he did.  Disguising himself as her hus-"

            "Let's discuss this elsewhere," Destiny broke in.  "I fear that we may have people interrupting soon."  Sure enough, bells were sounding in the tower and faces were beginning to peek out of glass windows.  But when they looked outside, they saw nothing but black velvet sea slamming into the crags of misty Avalon.

***


	29. Infiltration of a Dark Kind

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Twenty-Nine:  Infiltration of a Dark Kind

Witch Weekly

**Dangerous Nature:  Elementals******

            _By Myra Trent___

…There is a lot of skepticism whether elementals are truly real or not.  Let me tell that I am not lying:  they exist and **they are dangerous**.  I was nearly killed when I was at Diagon Alley buying more parchment for a story on the Ministry's Department of Magical Cooperation and its terrible diplomatic skills…

…It was terrible.  Fire was spouting from these huge crevices on the ground and there was the fiercest storm I had ever seen in my entire life raging in the sky.  I thought the ocean was raining down on us.  For a moment, when the rain came, I thought everything would be all right.  But it burned everything it touched and the fire still ate at everything despite it…

…I was scared out of my wits when I saw them.  They stood above the ruins and you could immediately tell that they were the ones causing it.  They were cloaked and carried strange weapons.  They also had these black tattoos.  Not the Dark Mark but tattoos nevertheless.  The Aurors couldn't do anything.  And those fiends were laughing at our pain…

The Daily Prophet

**New Threat to the Wizarding World******

            _By Daily Prophet Chief Reporter Emil Scott_

…There is nothing to fear about elementals literally controlling the elements.  According to a statement made by the Ministry of Magic, these 'elementals' are nothing more than pretenders who use dark magic to do all this, with the help of other dark wizards.  They are most likely out to destroy wizarding society.  Whether these elementals are the cause of death for many of the current murders is under investigation…

The Quibbler:

Elementals:  Are They Human?

            _By Ramona Carlisle___

…This writer doubts that elementals are actually human at all.  Can a human being actually control the forces of nature?  Using magic without a wand?  That is impossible!  Wands must be used perform magic.  If not, the magic is very spontaneous and uncontrollable.  This "accidental magic" usually only occurs during times of great stress.  But as we are very proficient with wands and keep them with us, this doesn't happen…

…Elementals must be nature itself embodied.  We humans have squandered Earth's resources and are bringing our planet to ruin.  Can nature itself be rebelling against us?  And is it mocking us by sending its vengeance in the guise of humans?  This seems to be the most plausible explanation that could be found…

Magical Herald

How To Defend Against Elementals

_            By Marshall Dennis___

…Normal wizards and even Aurors are wondering how we are to deal with these magic users.  We don't know how to defend against them or how their magic in its entity works at all.  At the moment, we here at the Herald cannot offer any help against these elementals until more information about them is revealed…

Official Statement from the Minister of Magic

…There is no need to panic.  Our researchers and Auror task forces are working day and night to figure out how to defeat these menaces.  They are cowards who are most likely using dark magic in conjugation with other groups to wreak havoc on our peaceful society!  They are not using the elements against us!  We will take revenge for Diagon Alley and the lives lost there!  We will defeat them…

…No, in answer to your questions, I am certain that these "elementals", as they call themselves, do not have anything to do with You-Know-Who.  You-Know-Who is dead and contrary to the lies that Albus Dumbledore is spreading, he has not suddenly 'returned' from the grave…

            _Statement made by Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, in a press conference.___

            "What you are implying is insane!  You want us to _talk_ with these people?!"  

            Albus Dumbledore winced as the Minister of Magic yelled in his face, spit flying from his mouth.  Calmly removing a handkerchief charmed to clean anything, he wiped the liquid off his face.  It was disgusting that the Minister should do this to who could most accurately be called the most powerful wizard in the world.  But Cornelius Fudge was beside himself, losing all self-control.  Not for the first time, Dumbledore wondered why the wizarding community kept this inept man in so much power.  It was doing little good, with all the attacks that had come about.

            The death eaters had been quiet for a bit.  Severus had explained the reason for this:  they were gloating about what had happened in Diagon Alley.  At the moment, they were only doing little killings here and there.  Transgressions that the Ministry was blatantly trying not to see.  The newspapers, of course, wouldn't dare print this in their pages.  Though the good thing of having people involved in its printing was a plus.  Some people were already becoming suspicious.  He had received letters of encouragement and support, but he had still been forced to listen to a number of scathing Howlers.  They claimed he was a liar and that he was scaring their children.  Dumbledore tried not to let this lower his resolve.

            "I believe that it is the best course of action we can take, Cornelius," Dumbledore replied serenely.

            "How can you suggest this?"  Fudge, blotchy red in his face and his portly body heaving with outrage, was once more screaming.  "Look what those people have done!  We must take action against them!"

            "How do we know that these elementals are all against us?"

            "Diagon Alley is an excellent example of-"

            "Eyewitnesses only saw four elementals at the scene when Diagon Alley attacked.  We don't know how many elementals exist or if they all wish to attack us.  We would be leaping without looking first."

            "It is taking affirmative action against what could be a threat!" was the furious retort.  Dumbledore was thankful that the room had silencing charms around it.  A wandering thought struck him:  this office could have been his.  And considering its empty spaces, cold office look, its lack of personality, and overall drab atmosphere, he was glad he declined the option of being Minister of Magic.

            His fingers forming a steeple in his lap, composed light blue eyes pierced the Minister's gaze, so much that the other had to look away.  "Let's take a walk in another's shoes, Cornelius."

            "What do you mean?"

            "Let's say we're muggles-"

            "That's preposterous!  I'm not playing any game-"

            "Just consider this.  We are muggles living during the first rise of Voldemort-"

            "This is utterly absurd!  We are not _muggles_, I am not going to play some little _pretend_ game, and there is - or rather _was_ - only **one and only one rise**!  And never say that name!"

            One stern look from Dumbledore shut him up.  "I suggest that you do.  It might put things in perspective.  And I will say the name as I please.  I do not fear him.  Let's begin again.  We are muggles living during the **first** rise of _Voldemort_.  We have found out that wizards exist and that these wizards are trying to kill us.  Wouldn't we automatically assume that all wizards are evil and that they should all be eliminated?"

            "Of course not!  We would understand that not everyone is involved-"

            "Precisely.  And what are we trying to do?"

            Fudge was dumbfounded, opening and closing his mouth much like a fish out of water.  Though this could very well be the case.  His own argument had been turned against him.  Dumbledore watched Fudge sputter in amusement.  Fudge, seeing this, grew angry once again.  He then barked out, "Get out of my office!"

            "Fine then," was Dumbledore's level response.  As he walked out of the spacious office that so disgusted him, he whirled around to face the wizard sitting at the large desk once more.  "Think about it a bit more will you, Cornelius?" he asked with an innocent tone.

            "OUT!"

            As he exited the office, he noticed an extremely pale and forlorn Percy Weasley sitting at the desk outside the door.  The boy looked like he wanted to say something, but was unsure whether to tell his thoughts or not.  

            "Speak Mr. Weasley.  I will not judge you."

            "Well…do you really think we can really talk to these elementals?"

            "I believe we can.  Not all of them could work for Voldemort."  The boy winced at the name.  Dumbledore inwardly sighed.  Percy could have been a good addition to the Order.  It was unfortunate that the Ministry held his loyalty.

            "But You-Know-Who isn't-" Percy said this with great hesitation.  Some of the people working at the other desks were listening with bated breath while pretending to work on their appointed tasks.

            "Mr. Weasley, you may believe what you wish.  But that doesn't mean you should hide yourself from the truth just because you think the Ministry is infallible."  With that, he left the Ministry offices to head back to Grimmauld Place, not knowing of the conflicting thoughts he had planted in the thoughts of several people.

            "They did quite a number on this place, didn't they?"  With a mordant smirk, a foot incased in a black dress shoe kicked a large stray rock into what was left of a souvenir shop.  The sound of it hitting the rubble was unbearably loud in the tense silence of the demolished street.  Thankfully, there were no others in the avenue than they.  And even if they were, those mortals probably would not even notice them.

            Melania scowled at the other with her, tapping her heeled-ankle boots in impatience.  "I wish you wouldn't do that."  Her dark hair hung loosely over her shoulders.  For once, the goddess of darkness was dressed in modern clothing.  Of course, this was for two reasons.  It was just in case they actually were seen (but that was doubtful) and her brother, like Thanatos, preferred mortal clothing to the usual formal garb of the deities.  Then again, that was the only thing the two ever agreed upon.  Wearing a dark blue skirt that ended just above her knees and a black leather jacket, she didn't look like much more than a typical muggle.

            She looked over to where the rock had disappeared.  It was truly a sad sight to see.  The destruction was everywhere to see.  Standing water, slick with a taint unknown to wizards, were in giant pools throughout the area.  On the few standing walls, scorch marks scarred and blackened what used to be clean stone.  Melania frowned in dismay.  It never ceased to amaze her that mortals could crave to cause such disaster as this.

            A smirk was all that greeted her and she was immediately reminded of _why_ she hated meeting with this particular sibling of hers.  The derisive reply was, "I don't know why you care anymore.  This is hardly anything new.  Humans have been causing mayhem amongst themselves and on their very planet for thousands of years.  Granted that before the Exodus, we had a much more promising future to look forward to."

            Her blue eyes narrowed in frustration, Melania glared magnificently at her brother.  "Just because this happens often, Moros, that doesn't mean that it is still not a tragedy."

            The harsh laugh rang through the deserted street, echoing in the wreck.  Moros just smirked at her, his handsome face barely seen because of his old-fashioned hat that looked as if it came from the 1920s era.  A stray wind blew, making the god of trickery's long dark trenchcoat flow back slightly in the wind along with his lengthy black hair.  This image of mystery and debonair often was what Moros used to deceive other gods and mortals.  And over the years, it still hadn't changed nor lost its effect.  "You still think so idealistically!"

            "I am not naïve and you know that well enough."

            "That is true," he admitted.  "You aren't naïve.  But naïve isn't the same as idealistic, now is it?  But hope can be regarded as naïve in certain aspects."

            "Are you alluding to Pandora?"  It sounded as if he were.  Pandora hated Moros.  Primarily because Moros always ended up tricking her in the end whenever they talked to each other.  Unfortunately, the goddess had never learned.  And it was a wonder why when all hopes seemed to have been achieved, something goes awry.

            "Not only to her, sister."  Another sly grin appeared on his shadowed face, before he spoke in his smooth voice.   "You do have high hopes for your last two descendants, do you not?"

            She could feel her anger rising up.  Moros was always good at riling people.  "So, then _I_ am naïve?"

            "You could say that.  But I am assuming that you do not wish to talk pleasantries, correct?  Let's get this over with.  You needed to speak with me?"

            "I need your help."

            A raised eyebrow was the response.  "Repeat that again.  _Slowly_.  I must have heard wrong.  _You_ need **my** help?"

            She sighed in annoyance.  "Yes, I do.  Will you help me?"

            "Humph," he shrugged.  "Why not?  This should prove interesting."

            "I need a good lie to get my agents into Hogwarts."

            "Give me an hour," Moros offered.  "And Hogwarts will be welcoming your little spies with open arms.  Though I doubt Raistlin would be compassionate to those little children."  He shook his head in amusement.  "I don't think it's in his nature to go easy on those who do not have the knowledge.  Especially since students use every trick in the book to get out of learning.  I would know."

            "You would, considering how many times you've changed the way events happen."

            "I don't change, I influence.  Besides, I have no power over the duties of our dear aunt."  He then asked sneakily, "Anyway, I'm not the only one tricking people, now am I?  What of your descendant Harry?"

            She cursed in her head.  How typical of Moros to turn the tables on her.  "I am aware of what I am doing," Melania pronounced.

            "Then how will you explain to him why you erased his memory?  Lethe's forgetfulness should not have affected him at all considering he is one of us.  And look at Tom.  He's resided in Lethe for fifteen years and he remembers what happens perfectly."

            "How will he learn if I didn't?" she challenged angrily.  "Wizarding magic has the effect of blocking all other types of magic if ingrained in a being enough.  Look at all my past descendants.  Look at Calandra Silver, Tom's mother.  She had the potential to be a powerful chaos sorceress.  Years of wizarding education and stiff beliefs over what is and what is not magic blocked her from ever achieving it.  Harry's block from his other powers were removed since he does not remember the defining limits set down by wizarding magic."  She then added quietly, "And can you imagine the trauma he would have experienced if he _did_ remember?"

            Moros accused, "What you are doing is stalling for time.  Harry will remember eventually what happened to him.  He'll have to cope with it then."  The god of trickery gave her an inquiring look.  "That's why you placed him in _that _household.  You knew he would become strong there and gain the familial love that he never had before."

            "Exactly."

            "When do you plan to return him to the wizarding world?"

            "I was planning on returning him around Halloween.  However…" Melania trailed off.

            "However?"

            "Things have changed.  With this outcry against the elemental community, it would be better for Harry to lie low for awhile."

            "I see."  Another dark smile graced his face.  "It appears that this will be _very _interesting indeed."

            The silence between them was almost like noise to her.  It was an odd thing to think, but that was indeed the case here.  Hermione Granger for once couldn't concentrate on her book and found that she gazing out the window more than reading.  Ron was not much better.  He sat across from her, the plush red seats much darker than the bright red hue of his hair, looking at what was contained in a small, poorly wrapped box held in his hands.

            Hermione averted her eyes away quickly, not wanting to cry and make things worse.  Inside that box was Harry's birthday present.  It was supposed to be given to him at a huge party on July 31st, which would not only celebrate his fifteenth birthday but his new life with Sirius as his guardian.  It was the party that Harry never showed up for.  

            Often, Hermione had wondered if it was nothing more than a pack of lies being told by the Dursleys.  They hated Harry, but judging from their actions in previous years, they had only treated him with disturbing indifference.  But abusing?  Harry was a powerful wizard.  He had sent Voldemort into hiding for fourteen years, defeated his supporter for the Sorcerer's Stone, killed a Basilisk, helped Sirius to freedom, and risked his life to escape the newly arisen Dark Lord to bring Cedric Diggory's body back to Hogwarts after the vigorous Triwizard Tournament!  Surely, he wouldn't be abused!

            In the end, Hermione had to face facts.  The testimony of the now insane Vernon Dursley under Veritaserum clinched things.  Sirius himself had gone over to the Dursley household.  When the former convict returned, he had locked himself in his room.  She was certain that she had heard him raging and even crying when in there.  At one point, she thought she heard something burning.  But it all made sense.  Harry's poor health in the beginning of each term and his reluctance to return home pointed to this.  She remembered at one point that he had pleaded with Professor McGonagall to stay at Hogwarts in the summer.  Also, his unwillingness to tell anyone his problems was a glaring factor as well.  Hermione wondered if Harry ever fully opened up to someone.  She doubted it.  Who could he turn to?

            The weather outside couldn't be more perfect for her mood.  Dismal gray clouds rolled in the sky, promising rain later in the evening.  The green hills and fields that they passed were covered in a thick fog, veiling them in white mist.  The sunshine that managed to pierce through the gray mists was weak and cold.  All in all, it was a very gloomy day.  Even Pigwidgeon, Ron's minute and usually very hyper owl, was lethargic today.  The compartment seemed cold and empty.  Ginny had left to go talk to her friends, unable to take the silence any longer.  So, she and Ron sat together, thinking of their missing friend.  They had not gone to the prefect's compartment.  People had already approached them with inquiries that they would rather not think about.  Ron was probably already in trouble for punching some second-year who had asked (with a lot of eagerness and anticipation, to her disgust) questions they most certainly hadn't wanted to hear.  Still the words rang through her ears.

            _Is Harry Potter dead?  Is it true what they say about his family!  You're his friends, can you tell me?_

            A sharp sliding sound snapped her out of her reverie.  The door to their compartment was opened.  Ron looked up and his face immediately twisted into a scowl.  Hermione could feel her expression turning into one of rage.  It happened almost every year.  Malfoy just had to turn up in one way or another.

            Draco Malfoy looked as triumphant as ever.  Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, his two lackeys, were behind him, looking as stupid as ever.  "Well, if it isn't Weasel, Mudblood, and…" He stopped.  The blonde's gray eyes widened in slight shock and then narrowed in anger.  "You mean you still haven't found Potter yet?!"  His tone was accusing, almost as if he were personally insulted by it.  Hermione raised an eyebrow.  He was a death eater's son.  Shouldn't he know where Harry was?  And why did he seem so upset by Harry's disappearance.  Indeed, the heir to the Malfoy name looked positively seething.  But why?  Everyone knew that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy _hated _each other.

            "No, we haven't," said Ron quietly, his voice holding violent rage in each syllable.  Hermione held her wand ready in her hands, in case either Malfoy or Ron began to fight.  "Wouldn't you know, death eater scum?"

            Malfoy's pale cheeks were tinted pink with anger and his gray eyes were flashing with fury.  This was odd behavior on Malfoy's part.  Usually, he would have said something about they being the first to go.  "Let's go," he had said tightly.  This shocked all occupants of the compartment, even Crabbe and Goyle.  Malfoy stepped out of the compartment with wide wrathful strides; his two 'bodyguards' following close behind.

            "I wonder what that was all about," Ron asked.

            Hermione answered, "I really don't know.  He looked as if he really had no idea where Harry was."

            "I would have thought that he would," Ron mused, his anger dissipating.  "Sirius last saw Harry with an elemental and from what little we know, elementals work for Voldemort."

            "Do you think…that he doesn't know?"

            "It's possible…Dumbledore is saying that not elementals could have joined Voldemort…"

            "There's a low chance of that."

            "We can hope."

            She sighed and quietly said, so low that it could barely be heard, "I miss him, Ron."

            "I know, Hermione," Ron replied sadly.  "I know."

            The silver wings and the metallic luster of the golden snitch lying in a box seemed dull on that September train ride.

            "Watching what is going on, Artemis?  I would figure you would be hunting or doing some other activity."

            Artemis' brown gaze did not waver from where she was looking.  "I have my reasons for looking, Vishnu."  Her straight white hair fell over her still pristine kimono.  As goddess of the moon, she did not need to go to such places as Castle in the Sky or to be a shadow to observe events on Earth.  Truthfully, she would rather be among nature.  It was in her personality as also being a goddess of the hunt.  But she was interested in this.

            The god who had spoken looked over her shoulder.  The saffron yellow garments he wore contrasted with his blue colored skin.  He asked, "Is that Raistlin Majere?"

            "Correct."

            "Ah…so your sister is finally begin to make her move."  A pause.  "She made good choices.  A hecatian, a mediator, a dark justice, and a necromancer going undercover at Hogwarts.  Along with Raistlin Majere.  Impressive."

            "I'm surprised you aren't more interested in this.  You are the god of preservation."

            "That may be true.  But what your sister is doing is trying to save these people from my wonderful cousin.  Hence, I do not intervene."

            "Why don't you interfere?" inquired Artemis, tearing her eyes away from the Great Hall of Hogwarts.  "I know the major light gods don't like Pheta.  Helios, Amaterasu, Iris, Freja, Odin, and Sekhmet make this plain enough.  You hate her as well.  Why don't you do anything?  Why don't Aether and Hemera do anything?"

            Vishnu sighed.  "What we make up in overall strength, Pheta makes up in numbers.  The minor light gods and goddesses are completely loyal to her.  At the moment, it is best that we stay out of her way.  When Melania effectively weakens her hold, we will join with the light gods."  Sending an astute look her way, he added, "And most of us have a good idea of what happened to Althelion.  The god of truth should not have fallen so easily, especially in a time when the Harbingers were punished."

            Glaring, she responded, "So you're waiting until it's easier for you to strike?"

            "It is best that we let the dark weaken her first.  Then we will come in."

            Artemis returned her attention back on Earth.  "All this to restore the cosmic balance of light and dark."

            "It is necessary.  Melania should be happy she does not have to go as an avatar as I did."

            "Out of curiosity, where are your other two arms?  Everyone knows you have four."  It was true.  The normally four-armed god of preservation had two at the moment.

            "They are in Nirvana currently helping Nike and Ganesha with something.  I was with them before, but I was interested as to why you were looking at the mortals."

            "Then I'll turn to you if I ever need an extra pair of hands."

            "Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  The air was filled with the silence that always accompanied when the headmaster spoke.  But this silence was different from other years.  It was tense and filled with worry.  Some students were fidgeting in their seats; inciting stern looks from equally apprehensive prefects.  The only table that looked mildly unconcerned was the Slytherin table, where a number of young wizards and witches had confident and relaxed expressions.  This didn't go unnoticed by the other Houses, who all disliked the House of Snakes for many reasons.  In a breach of tradition, the first years were already standing in the hall in a double line by Professor McGonagall.  They were still unsorted, but they were present nevertheless.  Though much of the student population wondered at the presence of four blatantly older students among them.

            "As you know, many things have happened during the summer while we were gone.  We have even one of our own missing from our ranks."  Everyone knew whom he was speaking of.  The empty seat next to Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley stood out starkly.  Most of the Gryffindor table seemed to be in a state of depression, frowns gracing a majority of their usually exuberant faces.  "I am sorry for anyone who has lost someone in the past few months," added Dumbledore benignly.  

            "Before we get started, I would like to introduce our new teachers first.  This year we have a record three new appointments to the Hogwarts staff."  Whispers broke out among the tables, all looking at the staff table.  Who the new teachers were was obvious.  Two were unfamiliar, but one was greeted with evident welcome.  There was another new person at the table:  a toady-looking woman wearing an atrocious pink sweater, but no one commented.  Actually, most were under the agreement that she should leave the room.  She was that unpleasant looking.

            "Professor Binns has decided to do some research with the Ministry over the subject of elementals and to look through documents that might say if they existed prior to what happened in Diagon Alley.  This is a great honor for him and I'm sure we are all sorry to seem him leave."  There were a few snickers at this and a couple of repressed cheers.  "Which is why," the headmaster continued, "Remus Lupin will be taking the post of History of Magic teacher until Professor Binns returns-"  An eruption of cheering greeted this, though a few confused younger students needed to be told about this well-liked professor.  The known werewolf was visibly surprised at this reaction and a small smile graced his pale face.

            When they had quieted down, Professor Dumbledore continued, this time with a sad frown.  "It is unfortunate that our Charms professor, Filius Flitwick, was injured in the Diagon Alley incident when looking through this years required spell books.  He will most likely return next year to teach as his injuries are such that he must rest.  Professor Sinistra will act as temporary Head of Ravenclaw house.  Wyvern Irving will take the post of Charms professor until he returns."  There was a lot of applause, largely from the female portion and from the Slytherin table.  Their former seeker was still famous among his old house.  Wyvern, looking calm and composed in dark blue robes, blinked one brown eye nonchalantly.  Its usual eye patch concealed the other eye.  

            "Last of our new professors," Dumbledore finished.  "Raistlin Majere will be teaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year."  There was no applause, just shocked silence.  An amused smirk appeared on the new teacher's face at this.  With his pale hair, golden skin, and strange eyes, he looked intimidating, though he was not bad looking.  It was just that the aura of power and intelligence around him diminished their own assurances of self.  Even Dumbledore seemed less than great compared to this newcomer, while Professor Snape did not seem as scary.  He sat in between the Potions professor and the new Charms instructor, looking like there was nothing that bothered him at all.  His robes were blacker than night, with a silver pattern along some parts of it.  One of these patterns was a silver dragon with wings.  Dumbledore also seemed entertained by this reaction.  "I trust you will you will treat him with respect."

            "All the old rules apply, including no students allowed in the Forbidden Forest.  Though why I keep saying this is beyond even myself, as many students tend not to listen to that one.  No magic in the hallways.  Our caretaker Mr. Filch holds the list of forbidden objects.  I believe it has expanded to over 750 items."

            The toady woman let out a large "Hem-hem" when Dumbledore concluded his speech.  She was soon the recipient of glowering and curious looks.  Maybe it was her tone of voice, but no one wanted to listen to her.  She had the presence of one who was extremely irritating and a snitch.  Even the shy Neville Longbottom was giving a death glare.  Of course, none of the student scowls could compare to those of the now secretly and unanimously dubbed "Terrible Trio".  Severus Snape, Raistlin Majere, and Wyvern Irving looked quite peeved at her very existence.  Professor McGonagall looked like an angry cat.

            "Oh, yes, right," Dumbledore started, looking surprised.  Some students sniggered.  It seemed as if the Headmaster _wanted _to forget that the woman was there.  "This students is Dolores Umbridge.  She will be acting as the supervisor over Hogwarts for the Ministry."  Umbridge was about to speak, but Professor Dumbledore stopped her.  "It is a pity that we cannot hear what she has to say, but I am afraid we have an exceptionally large first year class to sort."  More sniggering.  "Now, let us begin the Sorting.  Professor McGonagall, if you will?"

            He personally couldn't believe he was doing this.  Melania did promise him great rewards for taking this job on.  But teaching these…children?!  It could have been worse.  Imagine if he were disguised as a student and had to walk among these poorly filled minds.  That would have been much worse, possibly to the equivalent of Abyss…or even Tartarus.  Hearing these brats call him "Professor Majere"…maybe he should have stayed in the dark realms…or even among the reapers.

            Either way he was stuck in this position.  And being that he was accepted this job, he'd do his best at it.  And possibly show these backwater mages what real magic was.  Oh.  He had to use a _wand_.  It was a disgrace to use a wand.  The goddess of darkness had thankfully given him a magic staff made on his home planet of Krynn, which could lengthen and shorten at will.  It was very similar to the Staff of Magius, but slightly more powerful.  When he had asked where she had gotten it, Melania had only said that it took a lot of convincing.  Raistlin, curious mage that he was, decided to let it drop.  Her voice had the distinct tone of _'don't go there'_.  So, he kept his silence.

            Looking at the collective pupils that had to lower himself to educate, he saw that some had potential.  A few of the students had the potential to use other magicks, but they were in the younger set of them.  The older ones seemed to have firmly established their blocks against them and were completely devoted to wizarding magic.  

            Though there was some hope.  In the house – the green one – that everyone seemed to hate, he could see the faint auras of elementals.  That blonde haired boy, whose smirk was obviously a farce, looked to have a powerful water aura.  The elemental magic of the school appeared to be gathered at that place.  Raistlin could only assume it was because of magical throwback and the fact that their head of house happened to be a very powerful elemental himself, even if the man did not know it.

            Glancing over to the red – the Gryffindor – table, he saw that most of them were very subdued.  It was immediately deduced it was because someone was missing from their midst.  Harry Potter, the Dark Prince.  Though the other people here probably didn't know that.  Albus Dumbledore was correct in that Harry was a descendant of Godric Gryffindor.  But the boy was no child of the founder's wife, Pheta Gryffindor.  Melania still held a grudge towards the spirit of that man, but had nothing against those of the house itself.  She would know, disguising herself as a headmistress at one point in history.  But a redheaded boy sitting by the empty chair had great potential to be a Guardian, but his ability to use blood magic seemed to have diminished under his tutelage here.  Perhaps something could be done.  Guardians were relatively powerful chaos magic users.  Not the strongest, but powerful in their own right.  It would take a lot of effort to achieve it, but it could be done.  Maybe he should speak to Melania about all this…

            Speaking of chaos magic users, it was easy to see who to be careful of.  The command magic user he had been warned about was sitting right beside him.  This intrigued Raistlin.  Would this Wyvern Irving try to use his command magic on him?  It was doubtful that it would work.  He had much more experience with magic and was a command user himself, though his expertise was in the dark type.  But he was definitely a Soulseeker.  Soulseekers were dangerous in that they could manipulate the power and fate of the soul in general, besides having a lot of chaos magic.  It wouldn't be too hard to deal with though.

            Severus Snape was the water elemental Slytherin head.  Of course, being a Slytherin, he was cunning.  It was the house's most prominent trait.  It was unfortunate that most had a biased view against slyness.  Being shrewd and wily had gotten him out of plenty a situation.  Raistlin nearly laughed when he saw the man:  he didn't know who he was!  There was a chance to break the block:  the elemental power was strong.  But Raistlin wasn't going to be the one to help.  

            It was good to see that the dark magic spell he had put on himself had disabled the werewolf from recognizing him.  It wouldn't do for 'Mr. Majors', manager of an average muggle appliance store, to show up as a wizard.  Moros and Melania had thought of practically everything.

            Dumbledore was speaking again.  Moros had done an excellent job in coming up with a motive for his election to the Defense Against the Dark Arts post.  Influencing the English Ministry of Magic and other magical schools into opening an exchange program to strengthen unity was ingenious, especially when using the moderate success that the Triwizard Tournament had brought.  It was unfortunate that the disgusting Umbridge woman had to be here as well.  Maybe he could ask Melania if he could turn the toad in pink into a toad in the literal sense.  Raistlin was certain that some animal would like to eat her.  Or would they?  He disengaged himself from that entertaining thought thread back to the present.  The Sorting had just finished and now only four _very special_ students remained standing.  Who knew that they were agents of the goddess of darkness herself?

            "Hogwarts is pleased to be the host of a student exchange program," Dumbledore began.  Raistlin's smirk grew wider.  The man had been slightly suspicious of the Ministry's sudden decision.  Thankfully, when he approached the headmaster to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (no student of his _will ever_ call the subject 'DADA'), there hadn't been too much trouble.  His résumé had been carefully put together to show an almost perfect candidate.  Almost perfect:  he had to allow himself some faults to show that the document or his personality wasn't fabricated.  That Sirius Black had been distrustful of him from the start.  

            A fire elemental with chaos magic locked away, it was amusing to see a descendant of Thanatos be so serious.  But being among dementors and going through all the tragedy he had gone through probably had to do something with it.  No doubt he was worried about the boy.  At least he had turned out better than the previous Blacks.  Thanatos had gotten so fed up with them that he had left them on their own completely.  Another reason was possibly dealing with the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers.  Obviously weren't exactly the best.  Which he generally was.  If only the students knew who was teaching them.  "We have four students from three schools join us in this year of Hogwarts.  I trust that you will treat them with courtesy."  The white-bearded defeater of Grindelwald nodded to that stern woman who had brought the new ones in.

            The woman – his new colleague, Minerva McGonagall – unrolled a separate roll of parchment.  In a clear voice, she called out the first name.  "Constantine, Forrest!"

            According to the papers, Forrest was a fifteen year old who was a student of Salem Institute of Magical Crafts.  The boy was in fact, a mediator.  Mediators were much stronger than mediums.  Mediators could actually touch unseen ghosts and spirits and speak with them.  Some had even made connections with spirits in Annuvin.  He was tall with a well-built look about him, with a strong angular face set with dark green eyes and framed with long sandy hair in a ponytail.  With a skeptical expression, he put on the hat.

            A few moments passed, before the hat let out its decision.  "HUFFLEPUFF!"

            The table seemed happy to see another new member.  Forrest was quite the contrast to the typical Hufflepuff it seemed.  Even some of the other tables seemed shocked at the placement.

            "Kakar, Veda!"

            Supposedly from Durmstrang, she was also disguised as a fifth year.  Raistlin wondered in amusement whether Indra Mugdal knew his descendant was working for Melania.  Veda, a pretty Indian girl with long black hair and wise brown eyes, was actually quite knowledgeable about most things in the world.  But though she had a love for information, she had chosen to follow the dark arts.  It had taken a lot of "godly" interference to allow Avalon to relinquish this impressive dark justice.

            "RAVENCLAW!"

            There was another round of applause before Professor McGonagall continued.  That was two in so far.

            "Quinn, Alexandra!"

            This agent would be impersonating an innocent fourth year from Beauxbatons.  She was quite lively and energetic, which was ideal for the mission.  No doubt she would attract many friends.  With more friends, more information would be gathered.  Alexandra was a chestnut-haired, blue-eyed hecatian from Wales.  Hopefully, the girl would know better than to invoke the magic of the dark witch goddess here.

            "GRYFFINDOR!"

            Three down, one more to go.  The last one was up next.  "Reginald, Brian!"

            It wouldn't be too hard.  Brian was very sneaky and was the second-in-command in this operation.  Even his dark looks from his Celtic background showed that he was quite shrewd.  He was under strict orders not to raise the dead here, as it would cause alarm not only among the people here, but alert Pheta as well.  Brian accepted, grudgingly.  But by far, this agent going incognito as a sixth year from Durmstrang would be very useful to them.  

            "SLYTHERIN!"

            They were in.

            Nothing.  Absolutely, positively nothing.  

            That's was what the family records said of Mirage Searle:  nothing.

            Severus Snape resisted the urge to scream in frustration and violently swiped the papers off his mahogany desk.  Family trees, certificates of birth and marriage, death announcements, newspaper clippings, the family record book all crashed down to the floor in a flurry of parchment.  He then sat down back down in the plush green chair at the now empty table, running long fingers through limp black hair.  

            It was all too testing.  There's the revelation of Potter's home life, Sirius Black, the mysterious magic possessed by Potter's cousin, his grandmother's final words, Pettigrew's demise, Voldemort's malice, Diagon Alley, spying, that strange cat, Remus Lupin, Wyvern Irving, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and the transfer students.  And top it all off with being a spy and the head of a house whose jaded and misjudged inhabitants would probably be the first to join the ranks of Voldemort.

            He was stressed.

            _It probably showed_, he thought wryly.  Several students literally scampered out of his way as he stalked down the corridors after the feast, dark robes billowing behind him like angry storm clouds.  No doubt his expression mirrored this as well.  It was true that Severus had very good reasons for being so, as mentioned before.  Though it was finally seeming to affect his usually stoic and stolid nature.  

            He had pored over those documents to find nil on his grandmother.  Even his grandfather's old diary, kept safe in the Snape account in Gringotts, told nothing on his grandmother's origin.  Xavier Snape praised his grandmother endlessly, but nothing of her past.  A few passages had caught Severus' interest, but he wasn't sure whether to look into them or not.

            …_She had walked into my life out of nowhere, I am forever thankful for that_…_I hear her sometimes at night, mumbling strange words.  It is hard to understand what she says.  But one time I heard distinctly of "water", "element", and "wolf."  Though what she means I cannot say…___

It was a little known fact that Severus hated his parents.  His father was abusive and had a habit of getting drunk.  The fact that he was deep into the dark arts and a loyal follower of Voldemort had only benefited Severus in one way:  to help get himself among the death eater ranks.  His mother was too weak to defend herself or to leave.  How many times had he tried to persuade her that they were better off leaving?  But no, she claimed they were safer where they were.  He had never seen the logic in this.  He would have strangers torture him than his own father.

            When his mother had died, he was supposed to have returned to live with his father.  At the funeral, the man literally tried to drag him back to their home and Severus' wrist had bruised quite a bit from the grip.  But his grandparents had intervened and took him home with then.  That was the last time he saw his father alive.  The only time was in a coffin and he had watched the procession from afar.  He had no desire to attend a funeral for someone who had hurt him and stand among the mourning audience, they being death eaters in disguise.  

            But his times with his grandparents were the best years of his life.  If not for them, he would have never gotten through Hogwarts.  How many times had he begged to be pulled out?  No, they told him to stick it out.  And how if he didn't give up, then those who persecuted him would never achieve their victory.  Severus had seen their point.  Every year at the Opening Feast, his biggest tormentors – James Potter and Sirius Black – always wore scowls when they saw that he was still sitting proudly among the Slytherins.

            There was another interesting log.  One time apparently, Mirage had slipped when scolding his father, then a youngster.  Apparently, his father's hatred of the loyal house-elf ReeRee existed even in his childhood.  Though Severus never knew why as the house-elf was loyal, kind, and very efficient.  And Xavier was quick to catch onto her mistake.  

            …_Ethan was acting up again.  It seems that though the desire to become embedded with the dark arts has escaped me, it has passed onto my children.  I apologize constantly to Mirage for this.  I can see it pains her to hear this come from the mouth of her own.  This attitude of hers has made me able to deduce that she had bad experiences with the dark arts in the past…___

_            …This time, Ethan was torturing the house-elf ReeRee over the state of his soup at dinner.  It was nothing really; it just needed to be warmed up a bit.  But he was yelling at the poor thing, claiming it was the elf's fault that the liquid had cooled.  ReeRee was in quite a state over this and I was prepared to take action.  After all, it was not the elf's fault, but Ethan's.  We had called him to dinner an hour before he had decided he was fit to join us.  But Mirage had beaten me first…___

_            …I was quite shocked to see the vegetable soup incased in hard ice a moment later, as was my intolerable son.  Looking across the table, I saw my wife giving Ethan a gaze that made the Antarctic hotter than the tropics.  "ReeRee, she had said, icicles fringing her every word.  "There is no need for punishment.  You hold no blame.  You may leave and calm yourself if you wish."  The elf bobbed gratefully before popping out of the room, most likely to the kitchens.  Mirage then turned to Ethan.  "You will appreciate what you have, young man.  Be happy you have soup and a nice house to live in.  Some in Grey Tower never had –" She had stopped, before continuing on another thread entirely.  Nevertheless, her voice was still a frosty cold and the scar marring the skin beneath her left eye was white.  A sure sign that she was angry.  "You will learn respect for others, including those whose station is beneath you.  When you leave this house, I cannot control your actions, but while you are here, be mindful of your place and place.  Do I make myself clear, Ethan?"  Ethan had agreed quickly before hastily leaving the room.  I would have to talk to him later about what he had done.  And my speech would probably be much like my wife's.___

_            But what is Grey Tower?  Is that where Mirage hailed from?  And how did the soup become trapped in that ice?___

Indeed.  Those were good questions.  And the last mystery of them all was extremely vague to him.  Scribbled hastily on the cover of the leather-bound, his grandfather had written this late entry.

            _…She still refuses to tell me of her past…but I can forgive her…I love her and her past does not matter to me, I wish that the past would not torture her so much.  She says that Severus, our grandson, will turn out to be an upstanding man.  Where she had failed in Ethan, she succeeded in Severus.  She said that he would be her heir, though I do not understand what she means…___

_            …It strikes me as odd that we have lived together so long, yet her words can still be unclear to me.  I do not think of it much.  I accept it.  There is some sort of comprehension between us…___

_            …Severus is her heir, she claimed…___

            This struck him as odd.  It was true that when his grandparents had passed away, he had received a rather large sum of money.  He rarely used it in any case, though he did make donations from time to time in memory of the two who had took him in.  But, his grandmother had said that he was her heir.  But to what was he heir?

            And the last words in the final passage were these.  He felt that they were important.  The entry claimed that Mirage had finally told Xavier of her past.  But his grandfather had not written of it, just these words.  Severus did not understand what was meant it.

            _…Sekai-Kage Wolves, the wolves of the world's shadow…___

***


	30. First Defeat

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Thirty:  First Defeat

            A cool and gentle breeze blew across the expanse.  The tall green grasses that covered the realm of Lethe, land of oblivion, swayed and rolled much like a restless green sea.  But there were spots of color here and there among this endless viridian.  Some pale blue and purple splotches dotted the fields here and there, adding a variety that was normally never seen.  But this beauty was very rarely appreciated.  This color was nothing compared to the heavens above.  Ribbons of pale green, bright red, striking blue, and golden yellow twisted across the skies in an magnificent tapestry, thinly veiling the silver light of diamond stars.  The black ocean called Eternity, so calm and still, managed to have white foam bubbles cresting its dark waves as they crashed onto the gray shores.  

            Though the pilgrims making their way to the Land of the Dead did not seem to notice this.  Invariably, their excitement from their journey turned to blank indifference as their feet touched the shores.  In the universe's great continuity, they made their way to the boats docked on several canals, one for each of them.  Upriver, they would be taken, to be judged by the Queen of the Dead herself in the dread castle of Annuvin.  Though a few had taken the other river, their boats traveling back across the Ocean of Eternity.  As they drew closer to the barrier that divided this place from the living mortal realm, their bodies turned to a silvery transparent gray.

            However, there was one person in this quiet land who was himself.  Actually, there were several, but a few were just visiting.  Though Black Wolf of Annuvin would more likely call it 'slacking'.  But most beings tended to ignore the sneering comments made by that statue.  There would be no pleasing that spirit.  Only the great Lady Nyx, goddess of night and the wife of Erebus, would ever manage to attain his respect.

            On the rocky hill were the Night Tree grew, a dark haired man in his mid-twenties was laughing merrily.  The silver mythril edging on his black robes stood out starkly against the dark material.  His dark blue eyes, flecked with the customary gold and silver specks of those descended from the Lord of Tartarus, glinted with evident enjoyment.  This was a new sight in Lethe, but like most things in that place, it wasn't duly noted.  For this man, trapped in the quiet realm, was rarely ever this happy.  Over the last fifty years, one would be more accustomed to finding a much more morose, depressed individual.

            Tom Riddle was acting more of himself.  It was probably due to his increased contact with other _living _people.  The unconscious journeyers to Annuvin hardly made for good company.  It was about time for him to get out of his self-imposed depression and start to be the person he once was.  'The Dark Sovereign' who was claimed to escape this land in the prophecies seemed to be preparing for this inevitability.  

            During most of the time he was, anyway.

            "This is great," he pronounced, his smile wide and genuine.  In his pale fingers, he gripped a wand made of a unknown black wood.  It was to the trained eye, darker than even the blackest ebony.  A pattern of leaves was engraved into the grain, filled with a strange white substance.  If one were not a outsider to this land, they would notice that the Night Tree was missing two branches.  The trunk of the legendary tree had the same color and texture as the wood in Tom's hands.

            With an easy flick of his wrist, the wand extended into a staff topped with a dark blue gem that was not any of any kind found on the mortal plain.  After twirling it expertly in his hands, it returned to the compact form of a wand.

            "It's perfect.  I'm amazed that it works so well," he commented, turning to the three Reapers gathered around him.  "What was it made of once more?"

            Ptolemy Shadis' swarthy face was in a grin.  The former desert bandit easily drawled, "Night tree wood.  The phoenix feather that is inside comes from Hikari, the first phoenix to ever exist."  

            "That certainly explains the power it has.  But the wand is amplified."

            "That's because of the basilisk fang," Annie Kentworth, former duchess of Caventry noted.  "That white stuff – oh, if you want to do it, just say so, Indra!"

            "Fine then," Indra Mughal responded coolly.  The collected man of Indian origins would never say 'stuff' like the bubbly Englishwoman.  "That substance that forms the pattern is basilisk fang after it had been melted down and poured into the engraving.  It amplifies your wand because you are a parselmouth.  If you hadn't had this gift, then it would have just done nothing."

            "And the jewel?" Tom inquired.

            The three Reapers instantly became uncomfortable.  Indra's face became inscrutable while both Annie and Ptolemy glanced anywhere but at Tom.  "It…isn't for us to say," Annie finally said.  The other two looked relieved that the woman responded.

            Tom scowled.  "I _hate_ not knowing things."

            _I've seen competition like this before, but never on such a scale._

**Really?  Where exactly, might I enquire?**

_Rome was an interesting place.  _

            **It is too bad that you were shut inside that tomb when you were.  The fights of feudal Japan and the war conquests that had gone on in Asia and Europe after the fall of Rome were incredible events.**

            _I'm sure the pharaoh had good intentions for putting me in there.  He was sworn into the service of Melania Amarna, the Dark Lady.  And I had ventured out of the tomb once in a while!_

**You still didn't see them, did you?**

_…No.  Shut up.  _

**But the master is doing well.**

            _I agree.  We'll have to see how he does here._

            **He was quite shocked when we ran up to him after his win last time.**

            _I do not see why.  We were just showing affection._

            **Though we tackled him to the ground in our adoration.**

            _You have a point…must the old ones be so loud?!_

            **They are hardly old when you consider we are, Kardis.**

_I'm obviously going by human standards, White Owl._

**I was well aware of that.  Leave them be.  Our master has the right to be cheered for.**

            _Did I show any objection to his receiving of support?_

**It sounded as if you were.**

            _I wasn't.  But I'm sure that they could cheer a bit more quietly.  I am a cat after all and we felines have excellent hearing._

            **They have nothing on owls when it comes to eyesight though.**

            _Yes, they do._

            **No, they don't.**

_Yes, they do!_

**Don't.**

_Do._

**Don't.**

_Do**.**_

******Don't.**

_Do._

**Don't.**

            _Do._

**Don't.**

            _Do._

            …**Why don't we have a bit of wager to settle things?**

            _No.  I've seen humans and gods gambling before.  It either results in embarrassment, anger, revenge, large-scale destruction, or an individual disrobing in a public place.  I'd rather avoid that, thank you._

            **So I'm right then?**

_No way!  What are we betting?_

**Whoever sees the finishing blow better than the other wins the wager.  I haven't decided on prize yet.**

_They hurt that blonde fellow who kept on making feeble attempts at courtship with the master's mother before?_

            **Perfect.**

            "Welcome everyone to the second round of the Arashi-Tenku tournament!"  Wild cheering greeted the statement made by Zylle, the sound erupting to a thrilling intensity.  The lights of the tournament hall seemed to have brightened with the sheer enthusiasm and excitement that the crowd was exuding.  Night glanced around nervously.  He had a bad feeling.  It was somehow connected to his friends.  The odd thing was, it seemed to be focused in two different places.  One was here.  The other was…somewhere else.  He didn't know what to make of it.

            "The same rules apply here as with the last round."  With a flash of amusement, he noticed that Simeon Bradley merely blinked in bewilderment before leaning to speak with his sister.  Mariya just scowled before whispering hastily to him.  

            Instead of the sixteen that once sat here, only twelve remained.  He was happy to count himself as one of them.  Bran and Trina sat with him like they had last time and Mordecai Freely, still seeming to be very apprehensive, sat once more next to Trina.  Even from here, Night could feel pressuring glares from someone in the audience towards the water elemental.  He was personally glad he didn't have that sort of pressure.  Well, he didn't exactly _lack _it.  He wanted to make Zylle, Gran, and Hans proud.  As well prove his abilities to Professor Coulter.

            "The match will begin immediately and be held in this order:

                        Match 1:  Nuitari Hawking vs. Lee Seldon."

            Night mentally cursed at his fortune.  Looking over at the judge's table, he locked eyes with Zylle.  She gave him a sympathetic look before glaring at the woman next to her.  Professor Coulter, the recipient of the glare, merely waved cheerily with a smirk on his face.  Oh, he certainly had a lot of luck.  Trina just gave him a pat on the shoulder and Bran just shrugged, obviously saying without words that he needn't worry.  

            Still, he would rather not have the first match up.  

            Lee Seldon was seated a little ways down, next to Helena Taylor.  If Night's eyes weren't deceiving him, then he could swear that Lee looked nervous.  What for?  It wasn't as if Night was particularly good or anything.  Though he could use all four elements and had four great teachers.  But what Night had in tutelage, he lacked in the experience that no doubt Lee possessed.

                        "Match 2:  Mordecai Freely vs. Helena Taylor."

            Again, Mordecai was in the second match.  Lucky.  But Mordecai didn't bat an eyelash.  This rather concerned Night.  Helena was pretty good, even Night had to admit that.  However, the water elemental seemed very unconcerned with the arrangement.  It was as if he _knew_ he was going to win.

            Helena was looking slightly green, but a few words from her boyfriend behind her seemed to appease her somewhat.  Pierce Rowan and Helena Taylor were considered the "Golden Couple" of all the elemental clans, so it was not too much of a surprise to see them together.

                        "Match 3:  Bran Ravencroft vs. Mariya Bradley."

            Bran smirked.  "Well, third match again.  Lucky me."

            Night had to admit that he was blessed.  Bran, like Mordecai, did not look too nervous about his match.  The redhead seemed as if this were a walk in the park.  Night didn't think too much of this.  Bran was a strategist who always was prepared, whether beforehand or right in the middle of something.  Mariya was very good at sneaking and stealthy moves that caught her opponent off guard.  Bran must've been watching the last match closely to be so blasé about the match.

            Mariya on the other hand looked like she was going to bolt right then and there.  But Simeon was in the way.  It looked as if he were threatening her somewhat.  He was probably pressuring her to win.  If Simeon hated Night and Trina, then he had nothing short of loathing for Bran.

            Next to him, Trina tensed.  "That means I have the last match with…"

                        "Match 4:  Triana Smythe vs. Simeon Bradley."

            Trina groaned while Simeon Bradley looked more pleased than he had ever been.  "Just my luck."

            "The victors of these matches will move onto the semi-finals.  We wish you all luck in your battles.  Now, will Nuitari Hawking and Lee Seldon please step into the ring for the first match?"

            As if on casters, Night walked into the ring.  He received an heartening hug from Trina and a nod of acknowledgement from both Bran and Mordecai.  Zylle across the ring in the judge's both gave him a meaningful look.  The message was crystal clear:  _I don't care whether you win.  But if you hurt yourself, then you know what happens!  _Oh, he knew.  He'd be getting a lecture on how to defend himself that was interrupted sporadically and very often by motherly worry and fuss.  Professor Coulter looked as cool as a cucumber, giving him an even ice blue gaze.  Mirai just smiled and waved cheerfully.  Surprisingly, Helena and Mariya also gave him supporting gestures.  

            Predictably, Simeon Bradley just sneered.  But Night wasn't expecting any encouragement from that corner.

            Lee Seldon, who was a mousy-haired youth with friendly brown eyes, stepped into the ring as well.  He was wearing primarily red and white.  There was a fire aura around him, so Night knew what to expect.  Thinking back to the match with Calvin Springfield, the best strategy to implement the earth element, while using the wind element for speed and evasion.  Calvin didn't have the speed (nor heart) to avoid hits in that prior match.  He would have to do differently.

            "Let the match begin!"

            A plume of red fire rushed at him as soon as the signal was given.

            Just as quickly, a shield of earth energy appeared, blocking the flames easily and holding strong.  

            Lee ran forward, flame sword raised high to strike.  The earth shield collapsed like butter beneath the red blade and flickered out.  A smile of triumph.

            But no one was there.  

            A brief look of confusion passed on the fire elemental's face before a flash of understanding.  Just in time, he leaped up, avoiding a horizontal cut from behind.  

            Whirling in mid-air, Lee prepared himself to see Night and launch a counter-attack.  But Night was wearing a pleased smirk on his face, gray eyes glinting delightedly and casually leaning on a rapier made of the earth element.  Raising one hand, the wind elemental made a harsh slamming motion with it towards the earth.  Lee's eyes widened in realization of what was to come.

            The crowd winced and sounded off in sympathy as Lee's body came slamming to the ground from the air with a tremendous force.  When he got up from the ring floor, a few cracks could be seen in the stone.

            But Night certainly wasn't prepared for the next attack.  Lee faked left before abruptly slicing at the wind elemental's leg.  Night staggered.  A quick glance at the injured appendage told him all that he needed to know.

            Blood, pure and scarlet mortality, dripped down his pants' leg onto the ground, painting the stone a vivid crimson.  The crowd was screaming out insults, cheers; encouragement and slurs.  The first blood of the second round of the second round had been spilt.

            Two fireballs formed in Lee's hands and were predictably thrown towards him.  Wincing as he gingerly put weight on his leg, he dodged both before making a bringing his rapier down to the earth in a slash.

            With a mighty crash, a deep fissure formed and fractured the ground.  The whole stadium shook with the fury of the quake.  The fire elemental gallantly tried to regain his balance, but was hit full on by the force of the earth attack.  To add to this assault, the earth seemed to swallow and trap his entire body in its strong hold, his head being the exception.

            Lee struggled to get out of the chasm, but Night merely held his earth rapier to his opponent's neck.  The match was undeniably over.

            "And the first match goes to Nuitari Hawking!  He will advance into the semi-finals!"

            Night found it hard to fight the blush tingeing his cheeks as the crowd cheered wildly for him.  Well, he did admit he did well.  But it wasn't as if he had done anything **spectacular**.  The ovation was still overwhelming to him.  After briefly stopping to shake Lee's hand in good sportsmanship, he almost sprinted to the medic's booth to heal his leg injury.  It was a deep cut and was still bleeding freely.  The nurse, a serious woman by the name of Chrissie, just tutted before applying healing herbs and a bandage, adding a bit of her own earth magic to speed up the healing process.  After saying a brief thank you, he limped to the competitor's stands.  Already, he could feel his mother's gray eyes boring into him.  He was going to get it.

            Bran gave him a high-five.  "Nice one, mate."

            "You won!" Trina squealed.  "That's great!  See?!  Nothing to worry about!"

            "Will Mordecai Freely and Helena Taylor step into the ring for the second match?"

            "Good job," Bran complimented as he sat down.  He returned the praise with a grin.  It was still embarrassing though to have your grandmother and her best friend (who was like a grandfather to him) to be screaming and cheering like that.  It never ceased to amaze him about how two elderly people could have so much energy.

            He put his head in his hands in discomfiture as Trina laughed.  "You really don't need a cheering block, now do you?!  Only bring them along!"

            The two boys gladly joined in her mirth, but they sobered as Mordecai Freely stood up to get into the ring.  This duel would be interesting, since Helena had the advantage.  Usually, earth elementals couldn't measure up with water elementals.  But Helena's earth magic was especially adept at controlling plants and their growth.  Earth elementals like her could easily conjure up a few seeds to turn the tide, excusing the pun.

            "Let the match begin!"

            Mordecai ducked quickly as Helena rushed at him with a charge.  The short earth sword swung at only nothing because of the hasty dodge.  As he performed a low kick to her ankles in an attempt to knock her off balance, she jumped and avoided his feet.

            Helena gracefully landed a few feet away from the water elemental, while Mordecai rose to his feet, watching her warily with intense clear blue eyes.  It struck Night then that all the people he had met with blue eyes had different characteristics to them.  Bran's dark blue ones always told his emotions while Professor Coulter's icy ones blocked her every thought.  And the Lady and Tom's were once again different…but that was completely off topic.  Shaking these musings out of his thoughts, Night returned his attention to the ring.

            Helena waved her hands in an encompassing motion over the ring.  The crowd started conversing in whispers as the ground began to tremor violently.  Mordecai was looking down at the floor shaking at his feet with evident confusion.

            There was a flash of blinding verdant green light.

            When the light faded and sight was regained, it was to see a victorious looking Helena.  Mordecai, however, didn't look too happy.  

            The water elemental was raised several feet off the ring floor, restrained and unable to move.  Thick vines, covered in lush olive green leaves and large lily-like flowers, bound his legs.  Two other vines imprisoned each of his arms.  Another was wrapped around his torso and a thin creeper around his neck.

            Once more, Helena was doing something with her hands.  Night's mind went back to the first few days he was in Grey Tower Sanctuary Hospital.  Helena's hand movements strongly reminded him of what Mirabelle had done to the plants in his hospital room.

            The flowers began to put out a strong golden colored powder.  He winced.  Stun powder was a very effective weapon.  It seemed as if Helena was taking no chances with this match.  Soon, the particles covered Mordecai from head to toe.  By just looking at the boy's face, he could tell he was paralyzed.

            The vines receded back into the ground, clearing the ring.  Helena went forward to make the final strike.

            Mordecai, however, evidently had other plans.

            He rolled out of the way as the earth elemental attacked, evading the assault.  Also, as he struggled to get up, the water elemental managed to douse himself completely in his element.  Helena, a chestnut eyebrow twitching, tried to assail him once more.

            But Mordecai avoided the attack once more, executing a back flip out harm's way.  He appeared to be winded, but not as winded as Helena was.  Apparently, the strain of attacking and conjuring had put a strain on her.

            Mordecai quickly summoned a water sword and charged.  Helena, trying to regain a second wind, had done the same.

            The clash of swords pervaded the stadium.

            Shards of earth elemental magic glinted in the lights before clattering to the ground.  Helena collapsed to the floor as well, the hilt of an earth energy sword gripped tightly in her hand.

            "And the second match and advancement into the semi-finals goes to Mordecai Freely!"

            Cheering once more pervaded the arena, but Mordecai seemed pretty oblivious to it all.  He calmly made his way off the ring, stopping only momentarily to say a few terse words to a very worried looking Pierce Rowan.  No doubt he was apologizing.  After that took his seat once more, seeming eager to see the next match.

            "Will Bran Ravencroft and Mariya Bradley step into the ring for the third match?"

            Mariya Bradley walked into the ring.  She had a frail, almost doll-like appearance in her minute height, small face, and doe-like hazel eyes with a halo of fair hair.  Yet Night had witnessed the last match with interest.  Mariya used this 'innocent' visage to her advantage.  Neve, a much older girl, wasn't expecting the stealthy attacks from her.  Looking back at Simeon, he wondered how in the name of the Dark Lady were they related.  They looked – and acted – completely different.

            Bran stood out like a scarlet rose among white lilies.  His dark red hair looked even redder because of the striking scarlet and black that he wore.  His dark blue eyes gazed at the younger girl with the appraisal of a judge about to pronounce a verdict.  He stood ready for the duel, watching Mariya very carefully.

            Needless to say, it began with a bang.  But, as Bran would say later, the unexpected and chaotic approach was sometimes the best way to accomplish something.

            "Let the match begin!"

            And resulting explosion rocked the stadium, causing some spectators to scream.  Night quickly shot out an arm to steady the swaying Trina, making sure that she wouldn't go flying out of her seat.  Thankfully, the fire from the blast hadn't harmed them.  The shield around the ring held strong.

            As the dust cleared, he saw Bran standing proudly, looking extremely pleased.  Well, the explosion was an impressive display of fire magic, Night had to give him that.  Looking around, he saw Mariya Bradley sprawled outside the ring boundaries.  To the crowd's amazement (and satisfaction), she made it to her feet and staggered back to the ring.  Mariya fixed hurt hazel eyes on her opponent, but Bran didn't seem to care much about that all.  Night repressed a grin.  Typical Bran.

            Mariya, after trying once more to plead for sympathy from Bran, vanished.  But the move didn't escape Night's eyes.  She appeared right behind Bran, about to strike with a dagger of wind energy to his shoulder.  

            Bran, apparently, noticed the strategy as well.  He moved quickly, not only evading Mariya's attempt for a quick win, while delivering a harsh punch into Mariya's stomach.  She doubled over in pain and some in the crowd rose in anger.  Simeon did as well, Night noticed with an unconcerned eye.

            Bran, to Night's amusement, flipped the finger at the audience, clearly showing his indifferent reaction to the criticism.  _His mother did tell him that he watched too much American television._

            Once more, Mariya tried to use a sneaky assault on Bran.  She faked a right punch to his face, before quickly switching into a high kick to his temple.  The wind elemental used her magic to speed up her attack, adding more force to it.

            If it connected, it would've been quite painful.  And could've won her the match.

            But Bran quickly summoned a flame broadsword while ducking.  It missed him by inches.  Using the time Mariya was taking to recover from her attack, to make a spin attack.  Not only was Mariya propelled back out of the ring, but the sword generated a fierce flame that hit her right after the blade did.  

            She was flung out of the ring.  This time, she couldn't make it back to the ring, though she made a valiant effort to do so.

            "And the third match goes to Bran Ravencroft!  He will advance into the semi-finals!"

            Fortunately, Bran was nice enough not to hold anything against Mariya just because she was related to Simeon.  He helped her to the medics, if a bit roughly, and handed her over into their custody.  It looked as if she was going to be out of it for a while.

            Even though Bran was generally unpopular with the town, there were many loud cheers.  But it seemed as if it was more for the match than the actual combatants.  Bran's face was indifferent, but it did break into a grin as he neared Night and Trina.  

            Simeon Bradley, however, stepped in.

            "How **dare** you hurt my sister like that?!" the boy raged.  Simeon's haughty eyes were glinting with anger, but it appeared to come from wounded pride than concern.  Night stood up in preparation for a fight.  It wouldn't do for Bran to attack Simeon right now.  He could face disqualification that way.

            Bran surprised him though.  "I _dared_ because I plan to win," he said heatedly.  Blue eyes met brown in equivalent dislike.  "I held back a lot, you know.  I could've done more damage.  Be happy I didn't hold the fact that she was unfortunately related to you against her."

            Simeon shut his mouth, but still was giving Bran looks of hatred.

            "Will Triana Smythe and Simeon Bradley please step into the ring for the final match?"

            "Kill me now," Trina proclaimed.

            "C'mon," Night placated, pushing her forward.  "You'll do fine."

            "He has something planned, I know it!"

            Bran snorted.  "Then you'll have to deal with it."

            The girl just glared at him before going into the ring, their aforementioned rival following soon after.  He had a bad feeling about this.  Simeon was a wind elemental like himself.  Meaning that Trina had to get him to stay on the ground while attacking him throughout the match.  It wouldn't be easy.  But it could be done.  Ian Harlan had done it with his gravity-inducers.  Maybe Trina would be able to manage something similar.

            But the bad feeling was growing worse.

            "Let the match begin!"

            Already the ring was filled with Simeon's laughter.  Flying in the air above her, Simeon was flying in the air above Trina.  His eyes were filled with delight from being out of the girl's way.  Apparently, he also knew that Trina would have the advantage if he remained on the ground.  But Night could already see beads of perspiration forming on Simeon's forehead.  Flying was hardly an easy feat for a wind elemental.  Sure, one could stay in the air for a while, but only one with a lot of power could remain flying for even short distances.  Simeon obviously didn't have mentor and trainer as Zylle.  When she had discovered his affinity for flying, she made very well sure that he could stay up in the air for at least three hours at a time.

            Trina, a frustrated expression on her face, removed the rose from its customary place behind her ear.  With a flick of a wrist, it extended into the rose whip, a flurry of rose petals flying around her.  Another easy movement of her hand and the whip latched around Simeon's airborne ankle.  She then brought her whip to the ground with as much force as she could muster.  Gravity was probably what contributed to the fall the most, considering Trina's small size.

            Simeon managed to stop himself before hitting the ground and summoned a wind sword.  Its blade was large and was clearly very unwieldy.  The wind elemental probably didn't know this as he awkwardly sliced through the whip.

            She was repelled slightly from the sudden recoil, which Simeon used to his benefit.  Managing to get behind her, he easily lifted her up from the ground.  Trina, visibly panicking, began to struggle.  An earth elemental **did not **belong in the air.  Blood now ran freely from Simeon's nose from where she violently punched him.  Night then winced at the girlish shriek that came from the wind elemental in the next second.  Trina managed to hit…a very sensitive spot.

            This was definitely what got Simeon angry.  He let go of her.

            When they were at least twenty feet in the air.

            Trina hit the floor with a hard and sickening thud.  To Night's happiness, she began to raise herself up, if staggering a bit.

            But Simeon summoned a ball of electricity and threw it at her much like a Chaser throwing a Quaffle into the Keeper's hoops…

            _Where had **that **come from?  What on Earth is a 'quaffle'?_  He tore himself from the thought back to the match.  The electricity…

            She screamed as the electricity ran through her body.  It wrenched at his ears and at his heart.  But he was helpless to do anything.  And he _hated_ being helpless.

            Finally, Simeon let off the flow of electricity.  Trina didn't get up.  It looked as if she was unconscious, but he couldn't be sure.  Her brown hair covered her face.

            "And the winner of the final match is Simeon Bradley!  He will advance into the semi-finals!"

            The crowd was cheering wildly and in the center of the ring, Simeon Bradley was enjoying this immensely.  Night did not notice this.  He immediately raised himself from his seat and ran into the ring, his destination to his fallen friend.  A pair of footfalls behind him signified that Bran was right behind him.  Dimly, he sensed a water aura.  Mordecai Freely had also joined them.  

            But none of them were as fast as Jonathan Smythe.  Already, the earth elemental had his unconscious daughter in his arms and heading towards the medics, a frantic expression on his face.  Night winced.  No doubt if he were as injured as that, Zylle would be acting much in the same way.  And that was something he hoped would never happen.

            So, the four semi-finalists stood in the ring.  Three were somber, not seeming to be listening to the cheering and tumult around them.  The other was annoyingly accepting the praise as if it were only and solely for him.  It was almost sickening.  Professor Coulter was scowling magnificently.  It appeared that she thought the same way.  Zylle was giving him a meaningful look.

            "This ends the second round of the Arashi-Tenku tournament!  Congratulations to all semi-finalists and also to those who were defeated.  The semi-finals will take place tomorrow.  Same time, same place!"  

            "You feeling better?"

            "Much better, Night."  Two sighs of relief.  "C'mon!  It wasn't _that _bad…was it?"

            A pregnant pause.

            "Oh, you guys are certainly my pillars of support!"

            "Well, you did put quite a fight."

            "Don't try to redeem yourself, Bran."

            "Alright, I won't.  But she did hurt him badly, right?"

            "He's right, Trina.  And who knows?  After that kick, he may not be able to have children!"

            "Yes!  That'd be wonderful!  I can imagine the headlines…"_Triana Smythe Saves Gene Pool!_"

            A round of appreciative laughter.

            "I knew I wasn't going to win."

            "You did?"

            "I share your surprise, Night.  This coming from the person who doesn't believe in any type of divination or fortune telling!"

            "Divination had hardly anything to do with it.  It was just basic instinct.  Yes, well…both of you advanced.  That means there's a good chance that you might face each other."

            "That is true…"

            "It never occurred to me."

            "Typical boys."

            Twin indignant male voices said, "Hey!"

            "But what happens if you _do_ face each other."

            "What do expect we'll do?  Beat the crap out of each other!"

            "Exactly correct, Night."

            "You two are impossible."

            "The word 'incorrigible' is a better choice of…"

            "Bran?  I think you should stop before she hurts you enough to put you out of the tournament."

            "Shutting up."

            "But, hey, promise me this.  If one of does face off against the git, beat him, alright?"

            "Sure, I'd have done so anyway."

            "I'm afraid that I concur with Bran there.  And maybe we can get Mordecai into this."

            "I guess I have nothing to worry about.  If all three of you are after his blood."

            "I can promise you this Trina.  Whoever does face off against the jerk, will have a lot of fun putting him in his place."

            "Thanks, Night…Bran!  Those are _my _get-well chocolates from Sarah!"

            "Listen 'ere, buddy.  I say 't 'fore and I say 't ag'ain.  I ain't seen no Death Eaters or El'mentals 'round 'ere!  Now git 'fore I curse yeh!"

            With those words yelled at him by a sweaty bartender, a considerably angry Sirius Black left the dingy pub called **'The Ale Glass, a fine establishment since 1632'**.  In his opinion, it looked as if it hadn't been 'fine' since then.  The exterior of the building was brown and black from dirt and soot.  From its appearance, there seemed to be layers of the grunge.  A plain wooden door was barely on its rusted hinges.  The glass windows were grimy and covered with grease.  A brief picture of Hogwarts' potion master flashed through his head.  _Grease, heh.  _But the humor was short lived.

            He figured he would find a lead here.  According to the old greaseball, a lot of Death Eaters had frequented that particular place for clandestine meetings or for particularly strong drinks.  Sirius had been to many bars before and undoubtedly wouldn't set foot there of his own free will.  Death Eaters, for typically being high-up pampered purebloods, certainly had bad taste in places to have a good drink at.

            Passing many shadowy buildings in various stages of disarray and shabbiness, he finally made it back to a regular muggle street.  Ducking into the shadows, he dispelled the disguise charm he had cast on himself.  It wouldn't do to have people seeing Sirius Black skulking out of a known dark wizard haunt at midnight, now would it?  That would cause far too many questions, most likely being of the type that he would rather not answer.  But a black-cloaked stranger would cause no raised eyebrows.

            Stepping back onto the open avenue, he began to walk down the empty cobbled boulevard.  Of course, he wouldn't be viewed with suspicion here.  Sirius was dressed as an ordinary muggle would:  dark blue jeans, a white shirt, and a long black trenchcoat to warm him in the cool night.  He wondered why it was so chilly.  On most nights during this time of the year, a balmy heat still hung around like a suffocating shawl over the city.  But what was this chill?  Pausing to look up at the sky, the rolling clouds concealed the stars that might have had the answers if he knew how to read them.

            "I suppose you want the answers to your questions, do you not, Sirius Black?"  The voice, lucid and with a strange lilting cadence, rang through the silence of the deep evening air much like a hammer hitting a clear bell with just the right force.  Sirius' blue eyes immediately tore their gaze from the sky to look for the newcomer.  It was not hard.

            Where there was no one there before now stood a man, right in front of him.  The similarity between himself and the stranger was incredible.  The same style of clothing, the same height, the same hair color, similar shade of eyes, nearly the same facial structure, nearly everything was identical.  Though the twin had shorter hair and his eyes possessed strange flecks in them, not haunted with the harshness of hardship.  It was as if he were looking into a mirror of the person…he could have been.

            "Well, do you want to know?" asked the doppelganger.

            Sirius' eyes narrowed in distrust.  "Who are you?  And how do you claim to know what I need to know?"

            "Little ol' me?" the twin laughed.  "Everyone knows who I am.  Granted they all have different views of me.  It's funny, really."  He paused smirking.  "Every living thing will cross my path eventually, for there is no escaping me.  You know most of my many names, but there is one you know that you do not yet realize is mine.  Everything will become clearer soon.  As for how I know, it is very simple.  I am part of this little scheme as much as Voldemort or yourself are."

            "That doesn't answer all of my questions," the former convict accused.

            "But you haven't yet asked all your questions," the other replied smoothly.  "Those are unimportant.  Surely you must have more significant ones on your mind?  I do have some other places to be, after all."

            Sirius scowled.  It felt as if this person – whoever he was – was playing with his mind.  How did he know that he had more questions?  Who _was _this guy?  And why did they look so alike?  He was torn with all these questions whirling through his mind, while the other merely waited patiently with an amused grin.  In the end, he just resigned himself to it.  Bother where it came from, he needed information.  Badly at that.

            "You say you know the answers," he began skeptically.  A nod was the response.  "What is Voldemort doing now?"

            "Right now?"  The twin looked slightly thoughtful.  "I think he's discussing some new attack strategy with his Death Eaters and the Phantom elementals at the moment."  He sniggered.  "I can't believe he takes his orders from _her_!"

            "Who is _'her'_?" he asked curiously.  Sirius' ears must've have been deceiving him.  What this man was implying was that someone was actually using Voldemort to achieve their own needs.  It was obviously a woman if he judged from the word choice.  But he severely doubted that Voldemort would allow himself to be walked on by his wife.  He doubted that anyone would be that monster's wife.  Or girlfriend.  Either way the thought of Voldemort having any sort of relationship was disgusting in his mind of minds.  

            "Imagining that Voldemort has a wife who kicks him around?"

            "That is the most revolting thing I've ever…you mean he does?!"

            "No!  I doubt he could get someone even if he paid a three million galleons!"

            "I completely agree.  Disgusting!"

            "Ghastly!"

            "Nauseating!"

            "Appalling!"

            "Sickening!"

            "Getting off that horrible _horrible_ thought," the twin interrupted.  Both their expressions mirrored expressions of revulsion at the mention of that and the gratitude towards the change of subject.  "You need not know that right now," was the reply.  "You're under too much surveillance by _her_ to say.  I'd be putting you at risk.  And I can't do that.  But you'll find out eventually."

            "Elementals.  Who are they?"

            "Elementals are magic users who can channel the power of nature for their own purposes.  They don't need wands.  They like to stay away from you wizards.  There are two factions.  The Phantoms work for Voldemort.  The other side totally opposes them."  He was the recipient of a very quizzical look.  "I'm surprised you haven't spoken to them yet.  I mean, c'mon!  You've ran into one of their most influential leaders many times already!"

            He knew that woman was one!  It was a very well placed assumption on the Order's part, but now it was fact.  That woman with dark hair and gray eyes was a leader though?  "Who is she?"

            "Zylle Hawking."  The doppelganger winked.  "Quite the looker, huh?  It's too bad that I can't make a move."  He shook his head sadly.  "Sisters and their plans…"

            And now for the coup de gracé, the one question that if answered, he wouldn't care about anything else.  "Do you know where Harry Potter is?"

            "Oh yes," the other affirmed.

            "Where?!"  His eyes wild, he grabbed the collar of the man before him and shook him roughly.  "Is he alright?!  Is he hurt?!  Does Voldemort have him?!  

            A cheerful laugh was all that greeted him.  "Calm down!  He's _physically _fine.  As for _mentally_…"

            "He's insane?!"

            "Did I say 'insane'?" asked the other.  "No, he isn't.  But there is a problem there.  Thankfully, that woman is there to help him out.  Look for her.  Grey Tower is the best place to start obviously."  The man with the darker blue eyes glanced at the sky above him.  "Humph.  Hypnos is working overtime again.  Well, I must be going.  I've answered your questions.  Now all _you _need to do is piece everything together."

            "You didn't answer _all _of my questions."

            "I didn't?"  The man seemed mildly surprised.

            "No," Sirius insisted.  He now brandished his wand threateningly at his double.  "Who are you?"

            "Ah, _that _question.  As I said before, I have many names."

            "Yes, you mentioned that.  But you said I knew a name of yours that I didn't connect with you."

            A dark smile.  "Think back to the past, Sirius.  I believe your family has its origins at the end of the first millennium, correct?"  He continued on, not waiting for an answer.  "A wealthy pureblooded wizard married a beautiful witch from a small peasant village.  He gave her his name, power, and money all in the name of devotion.  She in return loved him and bore him children."  A melodramatic sigh.  "Sadly, time passes by.  And the wizard disappeared from out of the blue.  His wife and children carried on the family name and legacy, a family that possesses prestige even now when only one true member carries its name.  Does this sound familiar to you?"

            Sirius had stiffened.  He had heard this story before.  Of course he had.  Though it was never told often.  After all, his parents and relatives were rather sore about being descended from a peasant witch, no matter how beautiful she was.  "What are you getting at?"

            "Her name was Ariadne.  That's a Greek name, you know.  It means 'the most holy'," continued the twin.  "She had no last name, for her family was too poor to deserve one.  But that didn't matter.  She received one after marrying the wizard Nathaniel Black."  A harsh wind started to blow.  "It was a pity I had to leave her you know," the man said cryptically.  "But I can't escape my duties, now can I?"

            "What?!"  Sirius had to move his arms to shield his face from the now buffeting gusts.  What was this?!  It was if there was a tornado or hurricane of some kind just in this concentrated area!  From what little he could see of the familiar stranger, he seemed to be unperturbed by this.  His blue eyes widened:  the other was leaning against a wicked looking scythe.  Its edge seemed to be made of some eerily green light.  Light similar to that of the Avada Kedavra.  But Sirius unconsciously knew that death from the scythe to the Killing Curse was like comparing the Cruciatus with the Disarming Spell.  There was no question about which would be worse.

            "You may know me as 'Nathaniel Black', your ancestor from generations past.  But, my amusing little descendant, others know me very differently.  They either live and accept the inevitability that I will come eventually, embrace the oblivion that I bring, ignore my presence and blind themselves to it, or they fear and hate me with every fiber of their being.  I am the reaper of souls ready to be harvested."

            With a flash of silver light, Nathaniel Black had disappeared.  Sirius removed his arms, staring in apparent shock.  The remnants of wind whispered into Sirius' ears a message that ran cold through his veins.  _Do you really fear me, young one?  The answer to your question…I am Thanatos.  You know me as "Death"._

***


	31. Shadows of Silver

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***

Chapter Thirty-One:  Shadows of Silver 

            There were some people that really appreciated the stars.  And there were those that were obsessed.

            There were some people that really believed in divination.  And there were those that seemed to live their entire lives on the study.

            Lirenas, in Dudley's point of view, was the extreme latter in _both_ of these cases.

            The dark-skinned demon was currently lying in the middle of the Dursley backyard, looking up at the white distant stars with a burning intensity.  The moon was still rising in the newly fallen evening, a pale waning crescent against the deep black of the sky.  He seemed not to mind the dampening grass of the lawn or the descending chill that was descending on the land.  No, he seemed perfectly fine, if one discounted his obvious nervousness.

            Striding over to where Lirenas currently was, looking up to the heavens as well.  "I don't know how you can bloody well see the future by just watching stars," he commented flatly.

            "It is simple really," came the serene reply.  "You just have to know what patterns to look for and what history the star has."

            "You make it seem as if the stars were thinking beings," he scoffed.

            Lirenas gave him a skeptical look with his striking violet, otherworldly eyes.  "What else _would_ they be?"

            Dudley blinked.  "Umm…spheres of heated gases held together by the forces of gravity?"

            The demon raised a disbelieving eyebrow.  "What a naïve concept.  Do all humans hold this view?"

            Taking a seat beside Lirenas, Dudley replied, "No…some believe that the stars are actually the souls of the dead."

            "Another strange idea.  The souls of the dead are usually reincarnated.  Those that aren't either are ghosts, poltergeists, or move on to another plane of existence.  The stars are the stars.  They aren't gods, they aren't human, and they are neither demons nor angels.  They just…_are_.  I believe that the view of 'guardian angels' came from the tradition of a specific star looking after you."  

            "Really?" asked the human, interested.  "How so?"

            "When an individual, human or demon, is born, a star is destined to watch over them.  Each has their own history and tales to tell."  Lirenas pointed to a group of nondescript bright stars located in the west, where the last vestiges of the sun were fading out.  "That one right there…that is your star.  I believe he is known by the name Ryhelm.  He is one of the few warrior stars and is known for his righteousness."  He then gestured to the north.  "There is your friend Alyce's star, Sered.  She is a star of harmony, of balance.  The stars of the other two are in the winter skies.  Jerry's is Bever, a star known for his steadfastness and loyalty.  Cami's is Melisande, a star of foresight and counsel.  Mine is also in the winter sky:  Gan, she who listens with the heart and sees true."  

            "How odd that they seem to embody the characteristics that we have."

            "It is the way that universe works.  The star tells of the person's personality, their nature, guides, and protects them."

            "Say," Dudley started, an idea forming in his mind.  "Can you be able to tell a person's…location, from their star?"

            "Yes."

            Dudley resisted the urge to jump up and do a victory dance.  First of all, it would look rather odd.  Secondly, he couldn't dance.  But that was beside the point.  "Can you find my cousin through his star?"

            "What is his name and date of birth?"

            "Harry Potter.  July 31st."

            Lirenas paused for a moment, perusing the skies quickly with his violet eyes.  Finally, when Dudley was about just leave Lirenas to his looking, the demon seemed to have an answer.  "I see…so that is why."

            "You found his star?!"  

            "Yes, but she refuses to say where he is.  A truly noble star, indeed, but one that…has a reputation."

            "Care to clarify?"

            "There are certain stars that are much more…notorious than others.  It happened long ago.  When the Harbingers bestowed the Gift – which sealed their fate – upon all living organisms, was when the stars decided to watch over the souls of humans and demons.  But that story is for another time.  The point is that certain stars were particularly close to the Harbingers.  It is said that those born under these particular stars have the destiny to destroy and create, much like the Harbingers did."

            "What are you saying?"

            "Your cousin's star is Isis Reina.  She is a star of wisdom and of darkness.  A star of death and rebirth, a Harbinger's star.  The destiny of your cousin is connected with the immortals and with all of humanity.  She shines bright, which is a sign of great power and strength."

            Dudley sighed.  "Somehow, I'm not too surprised."

            Bored.

            Bored.

            Bored.

            That was all he had to say about the way this history lesson was going.

            The heat had once more set upon Surrey and made the dull classroom stifling beyond belief.  From its plain beige walls to the spotlessly clean floor, the room screamed, "boring".  If rooms could scream.  Or if one as lackluster as this could manage to even sigh it.  Dudley couldn't even read what students before him had engraved upon the desks.  The surface of each of them was smooth and polished, unblemished, with absolutely no sign of mauling or graffiti.

            Dudley did have to admit that it was better than Smeltings.  After all, classes such of this erupted into a war of striking and belting each other with their knobby sticks.  And there were a lot of those classes back at that preppy institution.

            Ironically enough, this was the one class he had with all his friends…and allies.  He still had no idea what to call 'Lirenas Muwambe' yet.  Jerry sat at the desk next to him, fast asleep, and it looked as if some drool was going to drip out of his mouth onto his open, blank notebook.  Alyce's eyes kept fluttering shut, before snapping open.  Repeat process many times.  Cami sat behind him (the teacher's seating chart was **very** odd), so he couldn't see what she was doing.  Lirenas looked mildly interested.  Mildly.  Dudley was amazed that something like the Battle of Waterloo could be made so…

            Boring.

            It was a battle, wasn't it?  A side won, tasted the joys of victory.  Another side lost, feeling the pang of aching defeat.  And something had to have gone on…like, fighting, for instance?

            But no.  Mr. Lorne had made the entire event seem as engrossing as Aunt Marge's bulldogs.  At the beginning of the year, he had seemed like a nice teacher, with a lot to do.  He was one of those young, new teachers.  The kind that you thought hadn't yet realized that the students rarely gave a damn about what they were saying.  They were slogging through British history like a fly through molasses.  Very slowly.  Though Dudley thought that if a fly did go through molasses, then it would be dead pretty quickly.

            The irony of the parallels.

            His reception at Stonewall High could've been worse.  It was a bit disheartening to see many of the students literally scamper out of his way.  Dudley surmised that a reputation as horrible as his should have such an effect from the others.  Jerry, Alyce, and Cami stayed by him, giving glares to those who dared to start whispering things about him.  They defended him loyally, even when he told them that many of the rumors were true.  Lirenas was new and was relatively accepted.  Relatively.  The demon's presence, despite his many attempts to make himself appear moderately human, apparently was felt on _some _level.  Most conversations that had passed between the humans and Lirenas were short, to the point, and finished **very** quickly.  

            Lirenas didn't seem to care all that much.

            In short, he couldn't wait to get out of this class.  There were a few more periods until school finally let up and they could return to one of their homes.  Then they would do their homework as a group, have dinner, before going demon hunting.  It was a predictable pattern.  The only main situation that required all of them to leave school was against a fire demon that had "business" at a hospital.  They all had made the excuse of going to the bathroom and, thankfully, all five of them were in different classes.

            That one was a close one.

            But then they had to explain why it took so long for them to return from the loo.

            A ball of lined paper hit him square in the forehead.  Looking around in confusion, he saw Alyce waved at him…before yawning.  Furtively checking if Mr. Lorne was paying any attention, he opened the ball of crumpled paper to find a message in Alyce's loopy bubbly handwriting.

            _Dudley,_

                        _Remind me to bring something to do next time.  Like a videogame or a magazine!  I would even read War and Peace!  _

_            …I'm going insane._

                        ~_Alyce_

            Dudley couldn't help but grin in amusement.

            "Is the location secured?"

            "Yes.  Though I really don't see the point…"

            "Of course there's a reason!  Everyone knows how much security Muggles put on these people."

            "Pheh…what do you expect?  They don't have any magic, the worthless lot of 'em."

            "Just shut up and do your job, imbecile.  Did you find the room?"

            "Room 76 on Level C…whatever that means."

            "It's called looking at a map.  You and these five will come with me.  The rest of you will prevent any interference.  Understood?  Then let's go."

            A wayward breeze ruffled the neatly trimmed lawns of St. Claire's Mental Institution.  It was a chill zephyr, one whose essence carried naught but ill tidings.  Befitting for the events that would take place that night.  It would be in the papers the next day.  The gruesome incident outlined for all to see in stark black ink against pale white.  

            The establishment itself had a respectable front, if rigidly clinical in appearance.  The grounds were always meticulously cared for with a severity of a knife.  The maple trees were cut in an attempt to make them look aesthetically pleasing, but only succeeded with a flat and otherwise artificial visage.  There was not a flowerbed that was not filled with a riot of blooms and clear of weeds.  Even the road that lead up to the stone and glass building was clean and smooth.  The name of the building was lit up in harsh white lights.  

            It is doubtful that the black-cloaked, white-masked figures converging and taking the building even cared of this.  They weren't the type to "lower" themselves to such behavior.

            Twin glass doors slid open with electronic efficiency.  A group of the black-robed men, seven to be exact, walked purposefully into the sterile institution's reception area.  At the front desk, a stout man in the garb of a security guard lay limp in his chair, eyes staring blankly ahead in the emptiness of death.  Opening a side door, where another large man (this time in white) was sprawled dead on the ground, they ascended the stairs leading to the upper floors, paying especial attention to the gaudy plastic signs proclaiming the floor level.  They exited onto Level C when they reached the correct landing, making no noise in the progress.

            They passed the various lifeless bodies scattered here and there around the hallway with an easy detachment.  All of the victims were unmarked, but every one of them possessed an expression of fear and terror, transfixed on their faces for all to see in the grim fluorescent lighting.  The only living beings in the entire building were incarcerated in their padded rooms, oblivious to all going on outside their barred doors, living in their own worlds.  They weren't killed because they weren't any threat in the first place.  And death might be seen as merciful when applied to these unfortunate souls trapped in their minds.

            It was one such individual that was going to receive the Death Eaters as visitors this fateful night.

            "This is it.  Room 72."

            "Open the door."

            "Locked.  What are we going to do?"  Similar queries erupted from the other five men. 

            "You are a moron.  _Alohamora!_"The door, a shiny slab of cold relentless metal, creaked open.  It revealed a room with padded floors and walls, obviously meant to prevent the inhabitant from causing injury to himself.  Though it was not very necessary.  Its denizen was currently huddled in a corner, a large mass of darkness in the now dimmer lighting.  He was a wreck:  shaking hands and shoulders, a receding hairline, and half a mustache (of the other half was lying not too far off, evidently pulled out).  He had a bemused smile on his face, his eyes manic and beady.  Such was the state of Vernon Dursley, the once proud worker of Grunnings Drill Company.  The one who had caused the abuse of the wizarding world's supposed savior:  Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

            It was truly a disgusting sight to see.  Behind his mask, the leader's lip curled in disgust.  A pathetic excuse for a human being was cowering before him, unseeing of reality and subject to the terrors of his own imagination.

            "Dursley."  There was no response.  "Dursley!"

            The broken man looked up with his panicked small eyes, not seeming to focus on the identity of the speaker.  "I can't get away, you know.  The Blue Eyes are here…"

            "I don't care about any 'Blue Eyes'," the leader sneered.  "Where's Potter?"

            "Potter?"

            "Harry Potter!" the second-in-command interrupted harshly.  "Where's the boy?!"

            "Silence, you ignor-"

            "The boy!" Dursley exclaimed maniacally.  "The boy!  You won't find him.  Not with the Blue Eyes.  They have the same eyes…"

            "Potter has green eyes, you fool!"

            "The same look…the same damned look!"  Dursley then started to laugh, an insane mirth that barely reverberated in the room's padded interior.  "The Goddess of Darkness!  She who rules over the dead!"  He threw back his head and laughed once more.  "You'll never find him!  Salvation!  Deliverance will only come from darkness!  Deceit laughs in amusement!  Death wears the mask of friendliness and walks among the living!  Light has abandoned us all!"

            A few of the Death Eaters were backing away from the obviously unstable man, still cackling in his corner.  "Kill him," the leader said flatly.  "Kill him and let's be done with this.  We won't get any information out of him.  Let's look for the son."  He strode out of the room, muttering darkly to himself, as the cell was soon lit with the bright green light of Avada Kedavra.

            The last word to be uttered by the lips of Vernon Dursley was simple and profound.  "Redemption."

            Blow after blow buffeted the large insect-like demon, eliciting unearthly shrieks from its gaping pincer-like jaws before it finally fell.  Dudley quickly wiped the sweat forming on his forehead before moving onto the next one.

            This group was a rowdy bunch.  And a truly disgusting one as well.  According to the Mancer's quick analysis, the demons were known as the Sysanids of a principally nasty part of the dark realms.  They tended to congregate in swampy or derelict areas and multiply into a large colony, gradually taking over the areas around it.

            As far as Dudley was concerned, they were particularly large and dangerous roaches and he needed a very (VERY) large can of bug-spray.  The demons were about a foot taller than his 5'8 and were intimidating enough.  Black exoskeletons glimmered in the flickering lights of the landfill.  Someplace he'd never thought he'd be.  Iridescent eyes blinked sickeningly at him as their antennae twitched in response to the movement around them.  Their pincers and claws were sharp and made it known very clearly that they were carnivorous.  That, and the abandoned motorbikes not too far off.

            It was a newspaper article that first caught their interest.  It wasn't everyday that the police located the bloodied clothing of well-known gangs.  The Hyenas, as they were called, were known for being especially tough and out of control.  They had to be, in order to evade police capture for so long.  However, the autopsy made on arrival was chilling.  There wasn't much left…only a few bones and some organs.  The coroner thought it was a wild animal attack since the bones happened to be gnawed viciously to the marrow.

            That was a clear sign enough of demon activity.  A quick scan of the Mancer verified it.

            But why weren't they notified before?

            Simple.  They were busy at the time stopping a Minotaur demon from attacking an orphanage in Northern Ireland.  And a rampaging demon with a bull's head required a lot of attention from the said people trying to take care of it.  Dudley had reckoned he had nearly gotten gored twenty times before Alyce lost her temper and punched it right in between the eyes.

            After that hit, even Jerry had to feel bad for the demon.  They quickly dispatched its unconscious form back to the dark realms using the Mancer's teleporter.  

            But they were dealing with it now weren't they?  Thankfully, the landfill was deserted because of the alert the authorities had put out.  There was no need to be on the look out for witnesses or bystanders.  As a result, the job wasn't going as slow as it usually was.  It helped that they had gotten stronger also.  It was amazing what only a few weeks could do.  Alyce mastered her spirit daggers and her improving healing abilities were proving invaluable to the team.  Cami managed to perfect her shields and her spirit awareness was much stronger than it had ever been.  Also, she learned how to use that awareness to her advantage.  Using a spirit bow and arrow **with sight** was difficult enough, but the blind girl was doing fine.  A couple of raids had been made easier by using her as a sniper.  Lirenas, who admitted (privately) that he was not considered a strong demon, was doing better.  He himself was gaining more proficiency with the spirit gun and sword.

            And Jerry, he was learning more patience and self-control.

            "You disgusting pieces of filth!  I'll kill you bloody pricks if it's the last thing I do!"  

            Well, towards _other kinds_ of demons.  Jerry had a…thing against bugs.

            There was a sickening splat.

            Yeah.  It was a big thing against bugs.

            Dudley had to shake his head as Jerry proceeded to spout more profanity.  Ducking the deadly pincers, he managed to blast the bug in its weak abdomen, effectively killing it.  Lirenas took out the last one with a sharp spinning kick to the head.

            Alyce, looking over the damage and themselves, eloquently summed up the resulting end to their battle.  "Yuck!"  She tried to wipe off some of the bug guts (she was near Jerry at the time) until she realized what she was touching.  Then she shook her hands in disgust before rounding on Jerry.  "What on Earth were you doing?!"

            Walking up to her, Dudley commented dryly, "I don't think he can hear you."  He was amused to see that he was relatively clean compared to her.  Cami wasn't as mucked up from the battle as Alyce was either.  Though Dudley thought that Sammy had something to do with it.

            That dog was very protective of its master.  Even to the point of jumping into a demon brawl.  Quite a canine.

            "What do you mean?" Alyce demanded.

            Lirenas pointed and deadpanned, "He means _that_."

            Jerry, in his supposed righteous and well-founded rage, was still battering on the dead Sysanid demon.  "Take that!  And that!"  He continued with the profanity, drawing an exasperated sigh from Lirenas and amused giggle from Cami.  Alyce looked plain indignant.

            "I know he hates bugs, but c'mon!"

            "Hey!  Someone get me a stick!"

            Dudley raised an eyebrow.  "I see what you mean."  He supposed that this was Jerry's way of taking out his frustration though.  The Maplethorpes were biologists and had a habit of taking their work home.  Unfortunately, they were working with bugs for the past couple of months.  Jerry was nearly close to the breaking point.  Dudley did have to admit sharing his home with potentially deadly and poisonous insects didn't sound too inviting.  Though this weekend, Dr. Maplethorpe (Jerry's dad) and Professor Maplethorpe (Jerry's mom) brought home two particularly revolting insects:  a Kandorean tapeworm, which was the largest tapeworm in the world, and Behemoth roach, a poisonous and very large roach.  Maybe that was it.  The Sysanids did have a striking resemblance to the roach.  

            Before Dudley could muddle over his musings further, Sammy's growl pervaded his thoughts.  The golden retriever was on edge, snarling and growling as if it were threatened.  Dudley looked around the landfill.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  Unless you counted the Sysanids.  But other than that, nothing.

            "Let's get out of here," Cami said in an urgent voice.  "It's…_them_, again."

            "Them?"  Alyce reiterated.

            An epiphany.  Dudley murmured, "Reapers."

            Lirenas nodded before going forward.  Grabbing Jerry's arm, he dragged the human boy away from the (obviously) dead Sysanid and headed towards the landfills exit.  The two girls followed.  Dudley hung around for a minute longer, Sammy's tense form by his side.  

            The landfill light flickered off before turning on once more.

            Underneath its fluorescent light stood a dog.  It was two times larger than the golden retriever was and could easily match Dudley's height if it stood upright.  With fur as black as the darkest night and wicked white teeth bared in a ferocious snarl, it leered at them with intelligent and threatening eyes.

            The light flickered off again.

            When it came back on, the dog was gone.  

            "Dudley, c'mon!"

            Sharing an alarmed look with the seeing-eye dog, man and animal followed after their friends.  

            The next morning, Dudley would return to the landfill out of curiosity.  

            There would be nothing there.  Only an empty lot.

            "Ewww…"

            "I second that!"

            "Shut it, Jerry!  You were the one that got us covered in bug guts anyway!"

            "Me?  ME?!  You're blaming _me_ for getting you like that?!"

            "Yes!"

            "How was it my fault?!"

            "Children…" This came from Lirenas.

            "Yes!  Thank you, Lirenas!  You were acting like a child, Jerry!"

            "I wasn't, Alyce!  Those were bugs!  Disgusting, foul, nauseating-"

            Cami cut in with, "I think she knows that well enough since she's covered in their entrails."

            "Ugh!  Must you make it sound worse?!"

            Such was the topic of conversation between the five demon hunters as they were teleported back to Surrey from the back roads of northern England.  Of course, they would be quite a sight to see on the street.  Teenagers aren't supposed to be out in the extremely early mornings of the day, when the sun was still set to rise in a few hours, covered in muck and sweat.  Actually, teenagers their age weren't supposed to be out at that late hour at all.  Little Whinging had a curfew.

            So, not only were they disobeying their parents by going out this late but also the law.

            All just to help save the world.  Life was just funny like that.

            It was doubtful that the residents of Little Whinging would even allow them back into their neighborhood if they were seen.  Such were the uptight residents of the tiny Surrey town.  Any sign of abnormality was immediately looked upon with suspicion.

            It had the quaint look of a suburban town at night.  Orange streetlights were casting halos of light from shiny metallic poles.  Prim fences separated each house from each other with grim straight lines.  Each house had blank windows, with not a sign of life within them.  No cars sped down the community's lanes nor were there any pedestrians out other than they.  The neatly trimmed bushes rustled in the errant breeze of the night.

            Dudley stopped in his tracks.  A chill ran through his still large, but slowly slimming, body.  What was the expression?

            It felt as if someone had walked over his grave.

            "Something's wrong," Dudley interrupted, cutting off what would be a biting retort from Jerry.  The rest of the party stopped to look at him.  Jerry's brown eyes held confusion, as did Alyce's.  Cami gripped Sammy's leash harder, but did not look around.  Her dark glasses looked hauntingly eerie in the late hour.  Lirenas showed no reaction at all other than the tensing of his body.

            "How right you are," came a voice.  It definitely did not belong to any of the demon hunters.

            A series of popping and cracking noises surrounded the group, loud in the quiet night.

            It wasn't long until they were encircled by at least thirty men.  Each wore sinister black robes, hoods over their heads.  The orange streetlights made the white masks over their faces appear even more menacing, accentuating the cold inhumanity that shone each wizard's eyes.  Wands were raised, the tips of the wooden wizard tools pointed directly at them.

            Dudley mentally cursed.  Even with the entire group there, it would be hard to beat them.  They were spent from the recent fight, a tough one at that, while these wizards were obviously ready and prepared.

            "Where's Harry Potter, muggle?" the leader of the dark wizards ordered.

            "Like I said to the last group that came here," Dudley replied, "I don't know."

            "You must be lying.  Your family did nearly kill the boy, after all."  

            Dudley winced at this.  It still was hard to admit that and his conscience was still railing him on that one.  "Wouldn't I have told the Aurors if I did?" he responded boldly, keeping his voice steady and clear.

            "Well then.  There is no use for you to live then.  But at least you could hold a conversation better than your miserable excuse for a father."

            "What about my father?!"

            "We paid a visit.  The fool kept screaming about some blue eyes," the leader scoffed.  Sneering, he next said, "Let's hope he finds peace in death."

            And that was when all pandemonium broke loose.  

            Night lay in his comfortable bed in his room, staring languidly up at the ceiling in thought.  He knew he should be sleeping.  He did have a tournament match coming up the next day, after all.  And it was an important one:  the semi-finals.  If he won that match, he'd be in the finals.  _One step closer to the finals…_  Which was one step closer to winning the tournament and gaining the prestigious title of Black Dragon, bringing honor to the Hawking name.  He swore to himself that he would accomplish this goal.  He swore it on the name of the Dark Lady of Annuvin.

            Smiling indulgently, he wiggled his toes under the warm layers of blankets.  This educed a tired and confused mew from the black feline currently sleeping on top of his feet.  Chuckling softly, his eyelids shuttered close to begin the peaceful journey into the land of dreams.

            Life was good.

            And it was at that moment, exactly that moment, when he thought he heard the mournful sounds of a violin.

            The impact of his body landing hard on a rough surface that was most certainly **not** his bed jolted him awake with a start.  Quickly sitting upright, he found himself on top of a roof, the coarse shingles chafing his elbows.  Looking at his feet, he found Shadow looking at him with an indignant glare in its green eyes.  He shrugged to show his confusion.  The cat attempted to gather what poise it could by clambering off his feet, before arching its back, its teeth bared in a feral hiss.  

            Night blinked before turning getting up to look behind him.  His mind immediately registering potential danger, he prepared himself in case of a possible attack.  A wind elemental sword formed in his right hand, a comforting feeling since he wasn't in the open.  It was then, when he recognized one of the two figures watching him with amused interest, he realized that he wasn't in any real sort of danger.

            "Lady Nyx," he murmured respectfully.  Indeed, the regal white-haired goddess of the night was there.  It was impossible _not _to recognize her.  She stood smiling kindly at him, her brown eyes welcoming in their insight and knowledge.  He kept his elemental sword out though, not trusting the man beside her.  He gave him the feeling that he should be on the alert.  His attention turned from the mysterious man in the dark trenchcoat and hat with the longish black hair when the white-haired goddess spoke.

            "I am truly sorry, child," she apologized.  "I had no intention of bringing you here."

            The man sniggered.  "Of course, she didn't.  But the gift of silver sight does have its inconveniences, does it not?"  This partially explained how he arrived here.  His silver sight had been activated somehow through Lady Nyx…and here he was.  Shadow moved in front of him, still on edge, giving the two a menacing glower.  However, the man just laughed.  "So, it _is_ true!  The spirit of destruction has found its master…" Night found himself the recipient of a mordant smirk.  "I knew this would be interesting."

            "Interesting?" Night reiterated skeptically, looking at the man with a suspicious expression.

            Nyx sighed.  "Excuse him, he is the 'smug' type, much like his father.  He is one of my sons."  She gave the older man a reproving glare, which her son promptly ignored.

            "Moros, god of trickery and deceit, at your service," he said, bowing low with a dark smile.  Somehow, Night got the feeling that if Moros were at his service, he was to expect a lot of trouble to come out of it.

            Instincts were wonderful things.

            Moros went on, speaking in a smooth tone.  "Mother was using her silver sight, as was I.  You must still be new to the gift, if you were summoned to us the way you were."

            "Right," he replied offhandedly, shivering slightly.  He was only in a loose t-shirt and pajama bottoms.  He wasn't really expecting to find himself on the roof of a random house that definitely **wasn't** in Grey Tower with two immortal deities.  Sleep was what he had in mind.  "Exactly, how do I get back?"

            "When we're done," Nyx replied.  "I'm afraid that you must stay with us, since our control over the technique is stronger than your own.  We'll just summon you again if we send you back."  She once more gave a scolding gaze at Moros, who this time backed away a bit.  "Under _normal_ circumstances, this would not have happened.  I wonder if _someone_ had done this _purposely_."  She emphasized each word with a stronger glare, making the older man wince with every veiled accusation.

            "Now mother…"

            "I don't want to hear it."

            "Mum!"

            "What did I say, young man?!"

            A sigh.  "Yes, mum."

            "That's better."

            Night had to suppress the urge to laugh.  Zylle had done a similar thing when the tournament's last round had ended.  Immediately, she began to look at his leg (which was healed by the competent medic before) with concern before rounding on him.  No matter how much he tried to placate her, she was relentless in chewing him out for making her worry about him.  And a leg wound was a very serious injury to a wind elemental especially, since they relied a lot on speed.  She had rushed him home immediately, fussing over him and scolding him at the same time.

            It had to be the ultimate example of mixed messages.  While it had him on one level very confused, it was comforting that she showed so much care for him.

            He was sort of miffed that Nyx had called him a child, though.  Well, he probably _was_ very young compared to her.  And the fact that she called her son 'young man' when Moros looked to be in his early thirties was probably another fact to support this.  

            Night opened his mouth to voice another inquiry, but a large explosion sounded in the street below before he could form the words.  He walked over next to Lady Nyx, looking curiously down at the street, Shadow at his heels.  

            Before him was obviously a battle.  Flashes of light volleyed back and forth between the two groups.  He recognized a few of them:  the red stunning and disarming spells, a few hexes, and several dangerous curses.  But everything was still frightfully blurry, his glasses and contact lenses both at home.  He squinted to attempt to see what was going on better, but to no avail.

            "Trouble?" Moros asked, a wry tone emanating from his debonair voice.

            "I can't see," Night stated bluntly.  "No glasses."

            "Use silver sight then."

            "What?"

            "Use…silver…sight."

            "I heard **that**," he replied crossly, "I just don't know **how**."

            Nyx sent another reprimanding look towards her son, who merely shrugged and turned back to look at the fight.  "It's very simple really.  There will be times where you can't control it, of course, but overall it's extremely to use.  Just concentrate on seeing clearly and everything and there you go," she explained, patient and lucid.  "There is a catchphrases in Latin, Aramaic, and Arabic – wonderful languages – but they escape me for the moment.  You'll have to use your entire focus to do this."  She was close to him, so he could visibly see the judicious brown eyes were gone, replaced by unearthly and mysterious silver.

            _Clearly.  Clearly.  Clearly.  _He repeated this mantra in his head in a rhythmical beat, willing his near-sighted eyes to see what was taking place clearly.  He knew he was getting it when he noticed the clarity at the edges of his sight.  But he was fast losing patience.  _Damn it, I want to see what's going on!_  

            He was nearly knocked off his feet from shock when everything sidled into accurate and stunningly clear view.

            "Amateur."

            "Moros!"

            "Sorry, mum."

            "You're just as bad as your younger brother.  Honestly!  I expected as much from Thanatos, but not from you," she admonished before turning back to him.  "I see you've got it now.  Can you see what's going on?"  The goddess shook her head sadly and tsked, "Truly awful, what those young ones are doing to those children."

            "Well mother," Moros interceded, "what do you expect from mortals?"

            "When did you become so jaded?"

            "Years ago.  I found that cynicism prevents me from being appalled from the gradually declined state of mortal humanity."

            Nyx sniffed indignantly.  "Keep talking like that and you'll be having a talk with your father…and maybe your aunts.  Silencio, por favor as they say in Spanish."

            "Sí, mi máma querida."

            All this was in the background as Night looked on the battle going on with wide-eyed horror.  The wizards were obviously the ones cloaked in black, their faces covered in pearl white masks.  About thirty of them were there, firing volley after volley of hexes and spells at a group of about five kids his age.  Well, four of them.  There was one with dark skin and violet eyes that didn't seem…human.  They weren't wizards or witches, but they were using some kind of magic.  Night didn't recognize it.  It certainly wasn't wizarding nor elemental and definitely not dark or chaotic.  It took a moment for him to register that the girl with the dark glasses on was blind, judging from her cautious movements and the golden retriever valiantly trying to defend her.  Shadow jumped into his arms and burrowed into his neck as the canine was hit by a particularly vicious spell and sent flying.  Absently, he petted the feline in an attempt to comfort it, all the while watching the fight.  A gawky looking boy and the other girl immediately tried to make their way over to where the blind girl was, but weren't able to make it.  The dark-skinned...demon, maybe?…was attacking all the adversaries with relentless abandon, but they had stunned him with the Full-Body Bind charm (Tom wasn't kidding when he said it was a useful charm). 

            The one that he watched with interest was the one who seemed to be the leader of the group of teenagers.  He had the appearance of someone who used to carry a lot of weight but was gradually losing it.  He had blond hair and very muscular arms.  And he was certainly using his muscles to his advantage.  He winced as one of the black robed wizards received a nasty uppercut in the stomach and didn't get up.  Night couldn't quite place it, but that one seemed…familiar?  It was an odd feeling, one of uneasiness and pity.  Though he began to question the pity part as the teen shot that strange white-blue magic at three of his opponents in succession and giving another a punch in the jaw.  Night swore he heard the crack of bone.

            _Yeah.  That guy **really** needs pity.  I **would not** want to get that guy after me!_  Oddly enough, these thoughts made him want to laugh out loud.  

            Still, despite their efforts, it was easy to see that the wizards had the upper hand in this.  They had the numbers and – if these teenagers were like him – they were tired.  It was almost overkill.

            "If these wizards have such a high opinion of themselves and such a degrading view of muggles, why do they outnumber them by six to one?" Lady Nyx sneered.

            Moros laughed.  "What do you expect from cowards behind masks?  And besides, chivalry is dead."

            Night looked at the man with curiosity, mixed with some insolence.  "I would figure you wouldn't be against this if you were the god of trickery and all."

            "This isn't trickery," Moros stated.  "Hardly.  Trickery requires some level of thought…and a little bit of subtlety wouldn't hurt either.  This is just…" The god's lip curled in a sneer, "Pathetic."

            Night was inclined to agree, though he wouldn't mention it out loud.  No, he wouldn't give the guy the satisfaction.  Thinking back to their introduction, he had to admit that Moros was indeed the 'smug' type.  "Can't we…do **something**?" he asked hesitantly.

            Nyx shook her head sadly.  Moros was the one, however, who gave an explanation.  "At the moment, it wouldn't be good for us to intervene.  More could be lost than gained, if you understand."

            "I don't."

            "I can't go any further than that.  Just think of it this way:  if we interfere, bad things happen to us and bad things happen to those that we're trying to help."  From what Night could see of the god's face, he was scowling.  "You would think that in those arrogant idiots' _amazing_ and _incredible_ _benevolence and righteousness_ that they would see that we were trying to help.  But, sadly, as previously stated, they are arrogant idiots.  It's why most of us rarely go to those blasted meetings any more."

            "So we let them die?!"

            "I said **we** can't do anything," Moros pointed out, a keen glitter in his blue eyes.  "I didn't say **you** couldn't.  We just need to be…subtle, about it.  Catch my drift?"

            Night blinked before catching on to what was being said.  "So, I can do something…" He looked down at the battle before him.  "But what?  At the moment, the best thing I could do is to go right in there…"

            "But jumping right into the fray would be unwise, wouldn't it?" interrupted Nyx.

            "Right…"

            "Well, why don't you use that admirable cat of yours, child?"

            He looked down at the black cat in his arms with confusion evident in his now silver-hued eyes.  "Shadow?  What are you talking about?"

            "You mean you don't know?" the white-haired goddess asked incredulously.  "I thought you knew what Kardis could do."

            "Kardis?"  The golden tipped ears of the cat twitched in acknowledgment of the name.  "Umm…back up a bit."

            "What you have there is what can accurately be called an intelligent magical amplifier.  An Egyptian alchemist thought he could create the ultimate weapon.  He gave the 'weapon' an animal form so that if it felt misused or in case someone would want to steal it, it could defend itself.  A spirit was also infused with inside it.  However, it was used for many things…both good and terrible things.  In the end, a wise and powerful pharaoh sealed the 'spirit of destruction' inside the Tomb of Cursed Sands.  Not too long ago, unsuspecting mortals did open the tomb.  They brought the only treasure here, but their finding escaped."  Nyx scratched the cat in between the ears and Night could feel Shadow's – or rather, Kardis' – body vibrate from its purring.  "I suspect that it will help you, if it likes you this much."

            Looking at the feline quizzically – _are they mad?_ (he decided to keep that thought to himself) – he said skeptically, "My cat.  Is an amplifier.  And a spirit of destruction.  Are you kidding me?"

            "I rarely joke, child," Nyx pronounced firmly.  This was put to question by a derisive snort from her son.  "Go on," she pressured.  "Use the Staff of Kardis."

            He raised an eyebrow.  Cat and staff didn't seem to connect.  Not knowing what else to do, he asked the cat, "Umm…can you turn into staff form, please?"

            Yes, he felt **incredibly** stupid while saying this.  After all, asking a _cat_ of all things to turn into a staff wasn't exactly…normal.

            "Any time now?"

            "Young man, if I hear one more snide remark out of you then you are **definitely** going to have a talk with your father!"

            He was once more not listening to the reprimanding that the night goddess was giving her son.  There was a brief flash of light and a sharp crack.  Eyes wide, he came to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, asking this particular cat to turn into a staff was normal.  In his hands was a staff made of an odd unmarked black metal substance, neither wood nor metal and not elemental energy.  It was just something different, a dark energy.  Great black wings were the most striking feature of the rod, rising from the back of a small cat figurine.  Emerald eyes – the same color and shade as Shadow's – winked back at him in the faint light of the waning moon.  The small statuette even had the gold tipped ears and tail that the original animal had, along with its silver paws.  Beneath its feet were four large brilliant jewels – ruby, citrine, emerald, and sapphire – surrounding a midnight black onyx embedded a sphere of gleaming amber.  It was slightly taller than he was – though Night would never admit that he actually _was _short. 

            "Wow."

            "That pretty much says it all, really."

            "What did I tell you about sarcastic remarks in my presence young man…"

            "I was being truthful!  It does say it all.  For the eloquently-challenged, at any – shutting up now."  

            He practiced some basic staff movements experimentally, seeing if the weapon was either too light or too heavy.  But it was perfectly balance and weighted, with a faultlessness that he doubted that any weapons smith could emulate.  Then, turning determinedly towards the dwindling battle below, he raised the staff and pointed it at the scene, ready.

            Night knew the basics of long-distance elemental attacks and had gone over them a couple of times, though the lessons were hurried due to the forwarded date of the tournaments.  Zylle had only shown him one attack as of the moment – an assault known for its accuracy.

            And for the damage inflicted.

            He could already feel the staff intensifying the wind magic he was using.  The jewels were emitting a pulsating light as the power gathered and electricity crackled violently around his hands.  All around them, the darkness was increasing, as ominous black storm clouds began to cover the sky, rolling in from out of nowhere.  Thunder, loud and deep, rumbled in a throaty bass. 

            "Have you ever done this attack before?" Moros asked.

            "Never in my life."

            "Good.  Then we'll have quite a show."

            A sigh came from Lady Nyx.  It seemed as if she was tired of yelling at her son, who was persistently ignoring her commands.  Night repressed the urge to laugh.  Judging from her face, it looked like Moros was going to see his father – whoever that was – anyway.  But it was a fleeting thought, for he soon refocused back on the task at hand.

            He then released the accumulated wind energy.

            And let the lightning strike.

            There were several things that had alarmed Sirius over the past few days.

            First was the meeting between himself and Nathaniel Black, or Thanatos, or as he was more popularly known, Death.  

            Second was the news that his dear ancestor had brought with him.  He said something was wrong with Harry mentally.  Not _insane_, but something was wrong.  Trauma?  Coma?  A concussion?  He didn't know but he'd be damned if he didn't find out.

            All in all, he felt that these were very suitable points to get alarmed over.  

            Remus just looked at him as if he were losing his mind (as if their school days at Hogwarts hadn't proved that he already had and was doing very well without it, thank you very much).  Even he, Sirius Black a.k.a Padfoot of the Marauders, had to admit the story sounded farfetched.  Not many people go around claiming they had met Death himself, who happened to claim that he was also their ancestor several centuries back.  And add that there was an amazing resemblance, in both looks and in character.  When he even went back to Grimmauld Place to ask Phineas Nigellus about it.  And all the snarky portrait had to say was, "It wouldn't surprise me.  Now, have you ever visited St. Mungo's mental ward?  I hear they have redone the place.  No more shackles and chains!  Maybe you should think of a making a trip there…and stay for a couple of years."

            Needless to say, Sirius preferred Thanatos to Phineas.

            _Hmm…maybe I **am**__going insane…_

Well, he had come off the streets after a bit of a scuffle with a few Death Eaters.  Obviously, they were newbies.  He doubted that Lord Voldemort would bother sending his best teams out to a muggle neighborhood so close to the Ministry's temporary headquarters and cause destruction there.  While Sirius had to admit that the psychotic dark wizard was probably not in the best state of mind a person should be in, he had to concede that Voldemort rarely did anything stupid.  Was it a plot to make the Ministry feel secure?  It was possible, considering how quickly Fudge had called up the Daily Prophet.  

            It was at these times that Sirius considered becoming an anarchist.  _I bet that a majority of the wizarding public doesn't even know about what the Ministry has hidden away._  The Department of Mysteries was proof enough.  Sirius had only been in there once and was pushed out as soon as he ventured in "beyond authorization".  But he had seen the floating brains.  Not a pleasant sight.  Though what those brains were for were anyone's guess.

            And here he was now, stealing into the closed off area while the Ministry was busy.  Most of the time was spent repairing what damage had been done to the establishment from the Phantom Elemental attack, but with the capture of those inept Death Eaters, it was now deserted.  A perfect opportunity.  He was coming on his own, though.  Dumbledore had mentioned a brief interest in what the Department of Mysteries held before the topic was turned again to rising Death Eater activity.  No, he was doing this on his own.  A private investigation, if you will.

            It was easy to get past the main floors.  Aurors were given special permission practically everywhere they went.  In practically no time at all, he was inside the Department of Mysteries.  It was hard not to get lost in the labyrinth style corridors, but he trusted his instincts.  They had guided him through many things and out of a lot of binds before.  Though even he had to confess that his instincts largely called for either the blowing up or the burning of whatever stood in his way.  Zacharias Orville learned that fact the hard way when he was training in Auror training school.  Sirius was amazed he hadn't gotten suspended for setting his teacher on fire with a well-place curse to get out of simulation exercise.

            He did have to put up with James calling him "Pyro Padfoot" the entire time.

            But other than that, his instincts never failed him. 

            _Crap._  Sirius cringed as he noticed which room he was in.  The Veil Room.  He wondered how deep in thought he must have been not to notice that he was standing right in front of the dreaded archway.  The ragged veil, shadowed and gray from time and age, moved in a non-existent wind.  There were whispers calling out to him from behind it, though he knew that if looked behind the archway he would find no one.  According to a few papers that he had "borrowed" from an Unspeakable, the Ministry assumed the archway was a portal into the land of the dead.  He had scoffed at this before.  But now…considering his recent encounter with the god of death on top of everything…he might be inclined to go along with the theory.  Shivering slightly, he made to move onto the next room, his back facing the archway as he was leaving.

            "No, you were right.  This archway does not lead to the land of the dead.  Rather, it leads to an area in between the worlds.  If anyone fell in, they'd be trapped in what could be called a state I think you mortals call 'suspended animation'."

            He turned abruptly at the sound of the voice, wand held ready.  A female voice, with a strange lilt and clear as crystal.  Sirius attempted to keep it steady, though, when he saw whom it was pointing at.

            She raised a dark eyebrow, "Really, is that necessary?"  Her dark blue eyes, flecked with gold and silver, were fixed directly on him with a piercing stare.  She was shorter than he was by a few inches, which was impressive considering how tall he himself was.  Her braided hair was odd, a mixture of dark brown and black, highlighted by streaks of white with strange lily-like flowers threaded among the strands.  She stood leaning against the archway's stones, looking much like a queen in a black kimono embroidered with silver flowers much like the ones in her hair.  She gave him an understanding smirk.  "I mean, is that anyway to treat your aunt?"

            "Aunt?" he said disbelievingly.

            "Aunt," she repeated firmly.  "If I'm not mistaken, you met my dear brother just the other day.  I hope Nat didn't shock you too much."  She gave him an inquiring look after she saw his shocked face.  "I see that he did."  An exasperated sigh escaped her lips.  "Figures.  He's **always**like that.  Sorry if he caused any trouble."

            It was now Sirius' turn to raise an eyebrow.  _Death?  Mischievous?_  "You're related to Nathani – I mean, Thanatos?"

            "He prefers to call himself 'Nat'," the woman replied.  "I'm his sister, Melania."

            His blue eyes narrowed.  "So, you're like him?"

            "Yes, I'm immortal.  I'm the goddess of darkness."

            Just his luck.  Here was the goddess of darkness.  And she was his aunt.  Amazing.  "And what do you want?" he asked suspiciously.

            "To tell you to stop searching for your godson."

            "What?!"

            "I assure you that it is in his best interests."

            "What are you implying?" he ground out.  "Are you saying you'd hurt him if I continue?"

            "Hardly."

            "Then what?"

            "You'll be putting him in danger and that is something I can't allow," Melania countered, her eyes equally narrowed.

            "You can't allow?!" Sirius roared.  "Considering how much the dark has taken from him?!"  The chamber amplified his allegation to a harsh echo that rang through the shadows.  The voices behind the veil grew in intensity and number, the veil fluttering even more in that unknown wind.  The goddess – Melania – looked furious, clenched hands shaking at her sides, white at the knuckles, and her nails drawing blood – black in the dim light - from where they were obviously cutting through her palms. 

            "Silence!"  She drew up to her full height, imposing and intimidating.  "I am hardly defending Voldemort, child!  He is as much of my enemy as he is to you!  You don't know **everything **that the blasted demon has done!  Do not accuse me of actions that I have no part in!"

            "Then tell me why!"

            "How can I tell you, when the one who is the cause of this mess is pulling the strings on both ends?" she replied in a low dangerous voice.  "I am keeping him safe by keeping him away from the Order and the Death Eaters, while he is recovering from the _trauma_ and _cruelty_ that you unknowingly made him go through.  And I am keeping **you** safe by not telling you everything at the moment."

            "You won't stop me."

            "I know.  I expected as much.  You're just too much like Nat to do anything else.  But I have given you a warning."  With that and a small whirlwind, Melania vanished.  She did, however, leave him a message.  _"Be careful."_  Going to where the goddess was standing before, he stooped to the ground.

            He looked at the strange flower that shone soft silver in the dusky atrium.

***

            Hey, people!  Sorry, 'bout the long delay.  The reasons for it are listed in my profile.  I apologize for it, but I do have to keep up with my schoolwork.  And I know that math midterm is going to kill me.  I'm also expecting a chemistry one, too.  Combine that with an in-depth research project into Aldous Huxley and his novel, Brave New World and I'm going to be pretty busy.  But I'll try to update as much as I can.  

            Hopefully, this chapter makes up for it.

            As you probably know, FF.Net is not allowing for authors to post chapters that do not have story content.  This unfortunately includes my review pages.  And I can't add review responses on at the end of the chapter due to my horrible dial-up connection (it's hard enough to upload regular chapters).  So, if you have any questions just e-mail me and I'll get back to you ask quickly as I can.  

            By the way, I did start up a new fic that just came into my head that I needed to take down.  You can go see if you want to.  I won't be concentrating on that as much as the Elemental series though.  But if you do decide to read it, I hope you like it.

            ~Raven Dragonclaw

In this chapter:  "Shadows of Silver" 

· Dudley and Lirenas discuss the future.

· Dudley and friends at school.

· The Death Eaters pay a visit to one Vernon Dursley at St. Claire's Mental Institution.  

· Dudley encounters demons and a grim.

· The Death Eaters attack the group.

· An appearance by Harry and Kardis' power is revealed.

· Melania visits Sirius about what Thanatos spoke about.

In the next chapter:  "The Flames of Battle" 

· A Phantom Elemental attack close to Hogsmeade causes alarm.

· Zylle's concern for Harry in the fight and Lavinia's suspicions.

· The Semi-Finals

1. Mordecai Freely vs. Bran Ravencroft

2. Simeon Bradley vs. Nuitari Hawking

· Sirius manages to find Grey Tower.  Mirai goes to investigate.  A fight ensues.

· The finalists are announced.

TEASER! Chapter 33 is the last round of the tournament:  "The Black Dragon"! 


	32. The Flames of Battle

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

*************

Chapter 32:  The Flames of Battle

            If he weren't using silver sight at the time, then no doubt he would have been blinded.

            Thirteen bolts of lightning crashed down onto the street, the following thunder nearly knocking him off his feet.  But he kept a firm hold onto Kardis, not letting go, and let the attack takes its effect.  Nyx and Moros beside him seemed expectant and were observing what he was doing with the careful attention of judges.

            Zylle didn't invent the Lightning Strike.  Neither did her father, whose specialty were lightning attacks.  It was an old attack of the family's, created by one of the earliest Hawkings, soon after the establishment of Grey Tower.  The attack was originally meant to kill, but it was modified over the years to cause more damage than to take life.  Though it had the potential to.  Multiple enemies could be taken out easily with it.  Usually, the normal amount of lightning bolts was six or seven.  But thirteen was unheard of.  

            He knew the risks of using it.  But it was an emergency.  And he hadn't quite mastered multiple attacks yet:  only able to take out at most ten enemies.  No, he was in the right.

            "Not bad for a first timer," Moros' voice spoke.  "Impressive."

            When the dust from the force of the attack cleared, thirteen craters were sunk deep into the black of the road.  Some of the crater's edges had even melted, white smoke rising and twisting into the air.  The wizards were sprawled across the scene awkwardly, unconscious.  The five that were under attack were fine.  Four of them (not the blind girl) and the dog were rubbing at their eyes, no doubt because of the light.  He winced in guilt.  He hadn't meant it to turn out that strong. 

            Nyx nodded at him, gesturing him to move away from their position on the roof.  He could only assume he was being sent home.  After all, the goddess' eyes had returned to their ancient benign brown and Moros' eyes were now a frosty deep blue, flecked like the Lady's.  __

            "Harry!"

            Night looked back at the group, expecting that one of the boys had gotten hurt in the fight.  But no.  The large one…the leader…was looking straight at him, something resembling a mixture of hope and happiness and a dash of disbelief shining in them.  The other four were gazing up at him as well, incredulity shown plainly on three faces, and indifference on the dark-skinned one.

            No.  **He** was the one being called Harry.

            But before he could look into this further, he found himself back in his bed at 14 Zephyrus Court.  The staff of Kardis had morphed back into the cat Shadow, who was now stretching languidly and moving back to its previous position at the foot of his bed.  More precisely on his feet.

            An indignant hoot and a nip on the ear effectively knocked him out of his surprise daze.  Hedwig evidently wasn't very pleased with his sudden disappearance.  Reaching out and absentmindedly stroking her feathers affectionately, he murmured, "It's been an odd night, Hedwig…a very odd night."

            Madame Rosmerta was used to cold chilly mornings, but never this early in the month of September.  Usually the summer heat hung around until at most Halloween.  Just the other day, she had gone out wearing the thin summer robes most wizards used during the season.

            Therefore it was definitely odd that today she was wearing winter robes with her woolen cloak and fur gloves.  As she stood outside the Three Broomsticks, she noticed the window had frozen.  In some places it was beginning to crack.  This wasn't unexpected: she had to blast the door open because both the door and hinges had frozen.  

            To her relief, the pub had not taken as much harm from the bitter cold than some other stores.  Caleb Dervish was complaining loudly of the many items in his store that had frozen and suffered irreplaceable damage.  The proprietors of Honeydukes were in shock:  The Pepper-Imp candies failed to work.  All that escaped from the person's nose or mouth if they ate them was not fire, but rather just steam.  All over the square, shopkeepers were exchanging stories of how unnatural this cold was and how it affected them.  Some were blatant exaggerations, but she could see why the postmaster had sent off almost all the owls down south.  A few had to be sent to Hogwarts because they were so near death.  She saw it herself, the postal workers mounting brooms, each of them with a fluffy feathery mass wrapped in blankets, flying towards the castle.  If the post office had suffered, then the school must not have fared much better.  Rubeus Hagrid will have his hands full.

            Or, rather, Pauline Grubbly-Plank.  Rubeus Hagrid still had not returned from whatever trip he had taken.  She assumed it was a trip.  Rosmerta had known Hagrid for years.  Sure, he could disappear for a couple of days, but months?  It had to be a trip.

            Her attention turned when a seamstress from Gladrag's mentioned notifying the Ministry for help.  She scowled, as did a great many of the shopkeepers.  The Ministry, ever since the Sirius Black incident years ago, was not popular among the merchants.  The dementors, whose presence was never wanted, cost them galleons of business.  Not to mention, they were proved useless.  Sirius Black had escaped again.  

            But it was nice to hear that he was in fact, innocent.  She hadn't believed that Sirius Black of all people would turn dark, even if his otherwise unpleasant family showed all the signs of going there.  It was unfortunate that the poor Potter boy, with all that he had been through, wasn't in the care of someone who cared for him.  Perhaps he would smile a bit more.  Almost everyone here in the town had noticed that Harry Potter rarely ever looked **truly** happy.  Sure, he had a smile when he was with his friends and you could tell he liked to be with them, but the smile never reached those green eyes of his.  It was a pity.

            Rosmerta raised her wand and cast a simple temperature spell.  Her eyes widened in alarm as she looked at the number.  In the ten minutes she had been outside her store, the temperature had dropped fifteen degrees.  But her attention was distracted as a small snowflake landed on her nose.  Looking up in alarm, snow began to come down.  It wasn't the slow normal pace of snow.  No, it just piled down on them.  In just a matter of seconds, she was standing in an inch of snow.  Several people ran inside, claiming the Ministry had to be called.

            And the snow was fast rising.  

            "Excuse me," a quiet voice rasped.  She jumped in alarm.  That man, Raistlin Majere, the new professor, never failed to scare her when he showed up in Hogsmeade.  He came infrequently for a quick drink, rarely saying anything.  But his black robes and strange yellow eyes always unnerved her.  "I can assume your tavern is closed if you're standing out here," he snapped.

            Rosmerta couldn't really give an answer other than glancing up at the gray sky, nearly obscured by fluffy white flakes.

            "I see," the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor replied cryptically.  He pointed his wand towards the rooftop of Honeydukes' candy store and muttered a spell under his breath.  Out of his wand shot an impressive blast of pale blue light.  She blinked.  _What was that for?_

            The snow stopped.

            A person suddenly appeared on the candy store's roof and fell ignobly into a snowdrift.  

            "Elementals," Majere scoffed in that low rasp.  "Some of them are just plain imbeciles."  He murmured something else, but she really couldn't catch it.  But she was certain he had said: "moving in", "idiotic weakling", and "Lunitari".  As well as several words that she assumed were some form of insults, in a different language.

            It was at that moment the Ministry had decided to show its face.  Some hotshot official ran up to her, "What happened here, ma'am?"  Rosmerta chose not to answer.  They had come when the danger was over.  And these were the people who were supposed to protect them?!

            As she strode haughtily back into her shop (not saying a word to the official), its own roof already piled up with white, she heard Professor Majere say, "I've dealt with the problem.  Something I'm sure that you inept excuses for wizards could ever do."

            "I'm surprised," Lavinia Coulter remarked.  "Mirai isn't here."

            Jonathan gave the woman with the glacier blue eyes a skeptic's glance.  "I would figure you to enjoy not being in her presence," he teased, in his serious fashion.  It was always hard to tell with Jonathan Smythe.  It was at these times that Zylle figured that Jonathan only put his emotions in his incredible works of art and not towards people.  But there was no denying that he was a skilled earth elemental.  She had faced her own semi-final match against him and he blocked nearly every one of her assaults.  In the end, she had to resort to an all out attack that could have mortally injured the other man easily.  To his luck and slightly to Zylle's indignation, he had only broken a few bones.  Yes, Jonathan Smythe was not one to pick a fight with.

            _Though the slight animosity between Lavinia and Mirai might have also stemmed from the semi-finals.  _That match could have gone either way.  Mirai had speed, battle experience, and the sheer power of a young vampire with exceptional training.  Lavinia possessed the determination, cunning, and ambition to surpass all others and prove to be the best.  It was this clash of goals that made that duel one that will stick in the memories of many a spectator elemental.  Although, it must be conceded that they rarely agreed on anything to begin with.  Their personalities also clashed, much like their elements:  Mirai's fire to Lavinia's water.

            Despite that, they tried to get along and accept that the other, no matter what, was not going to get any more serious/cheerful.

            "You know how we sensed the wards being pushed at?" Zylle asked.

            "Of course," Jonathan replied stoically.  "We held off  all the matches until six in the evening because of the disturbance."  Whatever it was that was trying to get through, it had put all elementals on the alert.  Defending against a Phantom attack was much more important than the continuation of an easily re-scheduled fight.

            "Right," she responded.  "She thinks she may have found out what it was."

            Lavinia sighed before leaning back in her chair, her shoulder-length light brown hair as impeccably styled as always.  Zylle always wondered how the woman did that:  her own dark brown hair never stayed in one hairstyle for the entire day.  Night, she smiled affectionately as she thought of him, had jokingly said that she should cut her hair short like his.  It would be messy, but not that bad.  At the time, she was caught between being amused and insulted.

            It was an easy choice for her mother:  she was amused.  Though they did enjoy fresh-baked brownies afterward.  Hans' chocolate trees gave better chocolate than the generic store type.

            "You know, Zylle," Jonathan asked, interrupting her musings, "I'm very surprised you came to the match as armed as you are.  I expect it always from Lavinia-"

            "I always carry a weapon," was the snide remark from the chemistry professor.

            "Yes, right.  But Zylle doesn't."

            "True."

            Zylle sighed.  There was no getting around those two.  She desperately needed Mirai there to add some comic relief to the group.  "I wanted to be prepared for anything while we were searching," she answered.  "The other two nodded understandingly before returning to their solemn silence.  The wind elemental always wondered how they did that.  Or stand it.  She supposed growing up with Sarah as her mother and Hans acting much like the uncle she never had was the cause of her discomfort with sober quiet.

            Idly, her hand brushed the cold metal of the gun holstered on her belt.  It wasn't a normal gun.  By far, no.  In the seventeenth century, some elementals decided to make use of the muggle gun and try to combine elemental magic with them.  It wasn't very successful, these prototypes.  Especially ones with fire, as they had a habit of exploding.  Though this **did** lead to the invention of the water gun (a muggle relative had been watching the said water elemental).  In the late 1800s, Maurice Laurant pioneered the way for a new weapon.  It was similar to a gun, but the metal and parts of the firearm was infused with elemental energy.  An elemental was able to shoot what could only be described as a 'bullet' of elemental energy at their opponent.  No need to charge up or load.  You just needed elemental magic and it was ready to go.

            Though it was possible to shoot muggle bullets as well.  One could never know when you'd actually need the things.

            On her left side was the Laurant X-314, the newest and best model on the market, able to shoot a pea that was perched on a needle from fifty-feet away.  Though she doubted she would ever want to shoot a pea, much less at a distance of fifty feet, it was comforting to know that the weapon had a great range and accuracy.  Zylle was planning on giving the second one she had bought to Night and hopefully train him in it.  Even if not many elementals taught their children the art of marksmanship, she felt it would be useful for her son. The Cirrus Revolver '00 was on her right, still as reliable as it was when her father had used in the Phantom Wars. 

            Currently, her son was talking to Bran Ravencroft.  Both looked exceedingly nervous.  Trina Smythe, the polar opposite of her father (and doing much better), was talking animatedly to the other two from a seat behind them, in the spectator stands.  Evidently, she was trying to relax them.  Which did ease her mind, for Night had seemed pretty nervous in the morning.  Actually, he looked to **welcome **the delayed match.  He even took a small nap.  Lack of sleep, maybe?

            Turning to Jonathan, she remarked, "I was very surprised that Triana lost, Jon."  It had been bugging her for quite a while.  A well-trained earth elemental such as Triana 'Trina' Smythe should not have lost to a mere average wind elemental such as Simeon Bradley.

            "As was I," Jonathan ground out.  "Her technique was perfect, yet Bradley didn't go down.  That made no sense."

            "I know for a fact," Zylle put in, "that he could not have spent as much time in the air as he had.  Flying is difficult for even the best wind elementals.  I myself have some slight trouble."

            Lavinia smirked.  "And yet your son is a natural.  Which is pretty impressive.  But make no mistake:  Triana Smythe should have defeated Simeon Bradley in less than two minutes in that last match."

            "What are you saying?" queried Jonathan.

            "Think about it.  He's able to fly for long periods of time, which we know that someone at his level shouldn't be able to stand without depleting all their energy.  He's able to execute attacks that I'm **certain** a dunderhead like he is couldn't do, especially since I'm very sure that he hadn't begun seriously training until the week before the tournament.  Lastly, his attitude is more arrogant than its usual unbearable level."

            "So you think…" Zylle murmured, fearing what the water elemental was implying.

            "Yes, I believe an amplifier is at work here.  The next match will tell us if this is true."  Lavinia smirked.

            "Night had better win this one then.  I don't want some fake to make it to the finals," Jonathan replied.  "Especially a fake that cheated to beat my daughter."

            "You're sure that he's using an amplifier?" she questioned.  Zylle had to be sure.  She could be putting her son in danger.  Then again, she was also risking favoritism on checking for one when there was just an assumption of an amplifier's possession.  No, Night would have to face Bradley, with or without amplifier.  Her hands were tied by the system.  _We'll check afterward.  I know Night is going to win, even if Bradley's cheating.  _

            "As sure as I'm sure that you hate dogs."

            Zylle shivered.  She hated dogs.  Especially big ones.

            "You'll do fine!"  Trina insisted.  Half her tone was cheerful, the other exasperated.  Though Night couldn't blame her at all.  No doubt their mutual anxiety and nervousness was irritating to the girl.  She sat right behind them, in the spectator's boxes.  Trina looked much better than she had the other day.  The small band-aid plastered on her head gave the illusion that she only took a small fall.  "I know at least **one **of you will make it to the finals!"

            Night managed a small smile for her.  The encouragement was slightly heartening.

            Slightly.

            Zylle had said the same thing to him before.  Though that was several hours ago.  A disturbance around the Grey Tower wards postponed all matches until later in the evening.  Looking with his green eyes, colored gray by contact lenses, he noticed that the leader's box was missing a familiar redhead.  It was a shame, for the vampire's easy-going merry nature was something he had gotten used to during the fights.

            Speaking of the leader's, Professor Coulter looked especially grim.  Which in itself was saying something.  Jonathan Smythe was sitting also seemed to be on edge.  As was his mother, whose gray eyes betrayed her.  Night gave her an inquiring look.  She merely shook her head and looked intently at Simeon Bradley.

            It was his luck to face the git in the second match.

            Though Zylle was worried.

            All odds aside, he should easily defeat Simeon.  Simeon may have had the advantage of living in Grey Tower his entire life, but he didn't have the trainers that he had.  He, Nuitari Hawking, had been trained by the very best of the best:  Hans Claybourne, Lavinia Coulter, Sarah Vartar-Hawking, and Zylle Hawking.

            Heaven be damned if he was going to fail them.

            Besides, someone needed to put Bradley in his place.  Badly.

            The sharp sound of shattering crystal pierced through the chatter of the noisy arena, effectively silencing everyone.  Much like everyone else in the underground stadium, Night turned instinctively towards the clan leaders, on alert.  

            But there didn't seem to be any real problem.  Professor Coulter had just smashed a large crystal icicle at the ground.  Evidently, she had done this to shut everyone up.  Nevertheless, it was effective.  And she looked smug about this.  Jonathan and Zylle were giving the water elemental exasperated glares, but didn't comment.

            "We apologize for the delay," Zylle began, her calm voice easing his nerves somewhat.  "As you probably have heard, there was a disturbance with our wards.  It is been taken care of."  Whispers swept through the room like an errant breeze before they quieted down again.  "Now we will begin the tournament's semi-final matches."  Loud cheering, kept in by the audience for many hours, was let loose.

            "So, will Bran Ravencroft and Mordecai Freely please step into the ring for the first match?"

            Bran stood up stiffly and left the box before anyone could say anything.  

            "Anxious?" Trina asked, somewhat needlessly.

            "Of course."

            "He's at a disadvantage.  A big one."

            Both fighters stood facing each other in the ring.  One in blue and white, the other in red and black.  Their faces were set, Mordecai's showing blatant determination while Bran's appeared emotionless and apathetic.  Bran's philosophy:  your enemy will have a much harder time if they can't see what you're thinking.

            "Let the match begin!"

            A quick side-step brought Mordecai out of the way of a fireball lobbed in his direction.  He was clearly expecting it, but he didn't foresee Bran moving to attack from the other side.  It was sheer luck – and a loud shout from a person who disliked the fire elemental a great deal in the audience – that enabled him to escape what would have been a crippling blow, made worse with the added fire energy.  Bran's face showed momentary aggravation before returning to its normal indifferent expression.

            The two began to circle each other, neither making a move, trying to anticipate the others movements.  This continued for a good ten minutes.  Mordecai then charged forward with a punch, which Bran made to dodge.

            But it was a fake-out.

            Mordecai swiftly brought up his left fist, catching Bran painfully in the jaw.  The water elemental then tried to execute a kick to the redhead's stomach, one with enough power to knock him out, but Bran managed somehow to evade the attack with a flip over his opponent.  As he flipped over Mordecai, Bran used the move's element of surprise to grab the other's shoulders.  With the accelerated momentum, he somersaulted Mordecai over his head as he landed.

            Mordecai was slammed hard into the ground, but soon recovered, resuming a more defensive stance.  Apparently, he wasn't expecting Bran to pull off that maneuver and was now watching his adversary with more caution.  Though this was not surprising to Night:  Bran tended to combine strategy with unexpected tactics, as to throw his enemy off.

            It was at that moment that Mordecai formed his water elemental sword.  Bran formed his flame broadsword as well, expecting a move to blade weaponry.

            But Mordecai didn't attack with his sword.  A jet of water was fired at Bran, weak and easily countered.

            Bran missed the satisfied smirk that graced the water elemental's face.

            The ring was soon shrouded in a heavy white steam as the water made contact with the fire.

            All vision of what was occurring inside the ring was obscured, but the white fog.  The only sign that there was still fighting going on inside the ring was the ringing of clashing swords and the flashes of light from elemental metal.  

            It would have continued this way for a while if it not been for several events.  There was a large blasting sound as well as a scream of pain.  Then the steam hadn't been rolled out by a giant wave of water.  All focused on one person.

            A thudding sound and a pained moan accompanied Bran's impact against the shields and then subsequent fall to the ground.

            This was it.

            No one could've gotten up from **that**.

            Night could see, even from here, that Mordecai was beginning to relax, anticipating the end.  If a person could relax with an arm that looked as if it had been plunged into hot oil.  The skin was completely black and some pieces seemed to be peeling and flaking.  His water sword was gone.  He wouldn't be able to use that arm now.  And that was his sword arm.  

            A murmur went through the crowd, as well as some cheers, as Bran staggered onto his feet, dripping with water and coughing, but still standing.  He tried to walk back to the ring, but collapsed halfway there.  An assault like that was probably equal to being hit by a bulldozer head on.

            "The winner of the first semi-final match is Mordecai Freely," Zylle's voice proclaimed.  But it was hardly heard over the roar of the crowd.  They were like wild animals, several of them actually screaming in enjoyment.  He knew most were only applauding a good fight, but there were quite a few that enjoyed the sight of seeing Bran get mangled.  _Control.  Control.  Blasting the crowd won't help Bran.  It won't.  It won't.  _He repeated this mantra over and over in his head, all the while seeing red.  As he did this, a few of the medics went over to the fallen fire elemental and carried him back to the medical station for healing.  Bran's eyes were still open, yet they looked unfocused and hazy.

            ""Will Simeon Bradley and Nuitari Hawking please step into the ring for the second semi-final match?"

            It didn't take much for him to notice the underlying worry that Zylle's voice contained when she called him to the ring.  He'd have to be on his guard.  His anger would help him through the next match.  That was a given.  But rage could cloud his judgment.  It would be difficult:  keeping a cool head while seething.

            "Good luck," encouraged Trina, but her stricken face made the otherwise friendly statement lose its heart.  "I'm going to check on Bran, okay?"

            Night nodded understandingly.  "Good.  Tell me how he's doing when the match is over."

            "Right.  Kick his sorry arse."

            Mordecai Freely passed him as he was walking into the ring, the other in the direction of the medical staff.  The water elemental avoided his eyes, concentrating on his feet.  Was he feeling…guilt?  Well, he did have something to do with Bran's injuries.  _Though Bran also is partly to blame_.  He knew that the calm exterior his redheaded friend possessed hid a very wide stubborn streak.  Most fighters would've surrendered to their injuries after that tidal wave attack, not push their bodies beyond their limits to continue the fight.  Worst yet, Bran had been fighting on a severe disadvantage.

            Either way, Bran had done some damage, judging from the way Mordecai was wincing as he cradled his blackened right arm.  It would take a lot more than the usual healing spell to restore the limb back to its previous condition.

            Simeon stood already in the ring, a large smile on his face, malicious eyes dancing.  "Are you ready, Hawking, to be defeated much like your little friend there?"

            Eyes narrowed, Night replied, "I'm not going to be defeated, Bradley.  I'm going to win."  He could feel his wind elemental magic around him, charged and ready.  As well as the other four elements close behind it.

            The other boy merely laughed.  "Just because you're a **Hawking** doesn't mean you'll win!"  He then pulled a face of mock-shock.  "Oh, right!  You're not really a Hawking, are you?"

            _Don't pay attention.  He's riling you up.  Focus energy on the match…focus energy on the match…focus energy on tearing him limb from limb…no!  Okay!  New strategy!  Happy thoughts…happy thoughts…that doesn't work!_  He guessed that a vision of Bradley getting put in his place (which probably wouldn't be called 'a place' because it was so low) was a happy thought.

            "Let the match begin!"

            Both of them summoned wind elemental swords.  But the difference between them couldn't be clearer.  The two that Night held were light and graceful in the Japanese style, perfect for quick attacks and assaults.  Simeon's was one large sword, with a huge and heavy blade.  The way its owner handled it was like one would use an unwieldy axe.  To his trained eye, Night could see that several areas of the blade were slightly dull.

            At the same time, they went forward for the charge.  Simeon immediately brought his sword down in a vertical slice, but Night stopped it by crossing his swords and catching the blade.  The other wind elemental added more force to slice, using his weight –which was considerably much more than Night's – to do it.  An ugly grin distorted his face, which disgusted the dark-haired Hawking even further.  "Are you scared, Hawking?" Simeon mocked.

^^^^^^^^^^

            A boy, with pale hair and cold gray eyes, smirked at him.  Next to him stood an imposing man with black hair slicked with grease and a prominent aquiline nose, dark eyes like voids and a sneer gracing his sallow face.  The younger of the two held up a wand, confident and ready.  "Scared, Potter?"

            He felt his own mouth form the defiant words of, "You wish."

^^^^^^^^^^

            Night didn't realize he had uttered the same words.  With new resolve, he threw Simeon back, using his wind energy to propel his adversary further.  He then went forward before the other could effectively guard for a double slice, once deep across the chest and the other catching Simeon on his right shoulder.

            The heavy blade disappeared as Simeon let go of it to grasp his shoulder, howling in pain, his white battle shirt steadily turning red.

            He had no idea why, but his instincts were screaming at him.  It was an odd sense of either running for cover…or taking Simeon out now.  _Muggle magic:  adrenaline.  But why…_Adrenaline rarely used in magic-users since the magic they were proficient in normally took over and accomplished the same.  Which was why muggles were much better at handling it than others.  But he was certain, his intuition was trying to warn him – and prepare him. 

            A circle of dust began to rise around Simeon's feet, whirling around him, widening and quickening in speed.  A dull roar sounded in his ears, growing louder.  Gray eyes widened.  Barely thinking and letting the adrenaline work, he stabbed his swords into the ground and held on to them tightly.

            He felt his feet be lifted off the ground as the tornado formed in full force:  Simeon in the peaceful center, he himself in the middle of buffeting winds.  The swords anchored him down, but he because of that, attack was impossible.  He tried to squint through the wind, but the gusts were strong enough to blow away his contact lenses.  Night blinked helplessly as everything became blurry and indistinct, worsened by the tempestuous squalls.

            Vivid green.  He was fighting what could be accurately be called, "half-blind".  _How am I going to get out of this if I can see what he's doing?_  His opponent shouldn't have that much power, but it was possible that the earlier attack – and the letting of blood – managed to increase his wind elemental power.  

            **Trouble?…Use silver sight then…**

            Moros had said that.  When he couldn't see last night…when he didn't have his glasses or contacts!

            _Okay,_ he prepared himself, closing his eyes.  His teeth were gritted in the effort of both holding on and thinking.  _Clearly, clearly, clearly._  Opening his eyes again, he saw the familiar clarity edging into the fringes of his vision.  _Clearly, clearly, clearly.  _Gradually, everything was clear and unearthly silver eyes peered through the winds at Simeon.

            He appeared to have recovered and was now standing confidently in the middle of the storm, not moving, with a satisfied smirk.  Which only served to piss the nearly airborne Night even more.

            Zylle had done this to him a couple of times, to help him improve on flying.  Though, there was one training session when he got frustrated with actual combat and did the same as Simeon was doing now.  But she hadn't panicked.  Instead, she…did something and very efficiently knocked him out for a good two hours.  And she wasn't exactly trying.  Later - after he regained consciousness, was given chocolate, and Gran reprimanded them heavily – she explained that there was an attack to defeat another wind elemental if such a situation arose.  But it could be dangerous to the other.

            Well, it wasn't as if he actually **liked **Simeon.  Or cared a great deal for his well being in general.  Truth be told, Night could barely tolerate his existence.  

            He allowed for his own wind energy to form around him, another cyclone in the ring.  Now that he was within his own storm, he pulled out his swords and floated serenely in the air, silver eyes narrowed and focused on the surprised Simeon.

            _Find where the two winds collide and slice through it with a wind slice from your sword.  _Seemingly simple, but it wasn't.  It required a lot of concentration to actually "see" where the winds met.

            Thankfully, silver sight was making it much easier for him.  The flashes of light that probably wouldn't have seen using his normal vision were hard to miss with his enhanced eyes.  Leaving everything to fate, he slashed his sword.  The wind from the attack struck the flash of light dead on.

            Simeon's tornado dissipated as the force of wind tore straight through it.  The other was thrown forcefully back out of the ring as the energy engulfed him.  It even hit the shield, causing it to shudder and in some places, actually crack.  

            With some slight nervousness, he cancelled his own cyclone and landed back on the ring floor.  _Did I do it right?_  Zylle's was considerably stronger.

            "The winner of the second semi-final match is Nuitari Hawking!"  Night let a shy grin grace his face as the spectators cheered for him.  He did have to admit that beating Simeon felt good.  Much like a stress-reliever.  From the small medical station he could see Trina waving excitedly at him, jumping up and down in happiness.  Bran, propped up in a seat and holding an ice pack to his head with a bandaged hand gave him a weak-thumbs up.  It was weak because the finger was plastered to a splint.

            Bending down, he picked up two small lenses, nearly invisible on the ring floor.  _I'm lucky._  Closing his eyes, he let his eyes return to their natural emerald green.  He then put in the gray contacts once more, not liking the blurry edges to everything he saw.

            "Cheater!"  He turned around to see the other wind elemental shakily rising to his feet, swaying, as he couldn't find a steady balance.  "You had to have cheated!  You couldn't have beaten me!"

            Simeon's screeches silenced the previous ovation.  Cheating was not an accusation looked lightly upon.  History had proven that those leaders who had cheated their way to the top proved to be terrible for their clans.  One such case was in the Seijaku-Shinrin Tigers:  a man had slipped weakening potions into all the meals of his opponents so when he faced them, he could win easily.  He did get the title of Black Tiger, but during a minor skirmish with a foreign clan he ran from battle.  Only to return days later when it was over.

            Obviously, he was kicked out.  But that was an entirely different story.

            "I didn't cheat," he said hotly to the other, glaring at him with narrowed gray eyes.  He added, muttering under his breath, "Like I would even **need **to cheat to beat you."

            Zylle smirked slightly at this, but refrained from laughing.  "On what grounds?"

            "He had to have cheated!  I'm **stronger **than he is!"

            Jonathan put in, "And how exactly are you stronger than he is?  After all, the tournaments aren't a show of brute strength."  Already, he could see a dangerous glint in the man's brown eyes.  Not unlike Trina when she got especially annoyed with something.  

            Simeon was at a loss for words.  "I – I just am!  He could not have possibly won!"  The two boys leered at each other, showing equal dislike.

            "Young man," Lavinia said coldly, a chilling but satisfied gleam in her light blue eyes.  "Since when did you get your ear pierced?   The gem does have a **striking **resemblance to a wind crystal."  She pointed to the small gem in Simeon's ear, which was rather innocent looking at first glance.

            At first glance.  A second look showed it to be a wind elemental crystal, shining a dull yellow.  Amplifier.

            "You are disqualified," Zylle pronounced, a pleased tone in her voice.  "And your last opponent will take your place in the leader standings."  Jonathan Smythe, for a first, wore a wide grin on his face.

            It was a quaint little town really.  Even if he couldn't find a single soul around.  Which in itself was odd.  If he weren't in the possession of the knowledge that this – this community not far from London – was actually the main center of elementals, he would think this would be a muggle neighborhood.  Not that he had anything against muggles.  Far from it.  But elementals were magic users, weren't they?  Wouldn't they be like wizards?  Hidden away from non-magical society?  Clearly, the elementals preferred the muggles to wizards.  A thrilling thought for one of the pureblood fanatic families:  a secret sect of magic users who spurned wizarding society and lived among the muggles.  Neither Thanatos nor Melania had given him much information to the reason for this.  Obviously, it happened in the past.  

            Whatever it was, the elementals definitely **did not **want to be in contact with wizarding society.  Almost all attempts to reach them were futile.  There had been a response to something a muggle-born witch in the Department of Magical Cooperation had sent:  something called "e-mail".  He really didn't know the details as to how the woman did it.  But whatever it was, it did get through to them somehow.  The reply was short, to the point, and contained quite a bit of foul language.  When it was read back, Dumbledore had to bite down an amused grin while Fudge was clearly fuming.  The poor girl who was given the task was red-faced from embarrassment.  No doubt calling her boss a "pinstriped spineless turkey that couldn't see the filth in his own administration even if he was rubbing his nose in it".  And was one of the tamer euphemisms of the ever-exalted Minister of Magic.  And one of the few that didn't contain explicit profanity.

            Auror extraordinaire, former convict, and apparent descendant of Death.  _What a title.  _Sirius Black walked down what he could only assume was a shopping area, much like Diagon Alley was…used to be.  Sky Lane.  At first, the signs were subtle:  he had nearly succumbed to the enchantment around the town's borders.  Shielding charms, to keep intruders out.  Maybe some divinity was helping, for he managed to get through…albeit not without some difficulty.  It was here that he began to see telltale signs of magic.  The streetlights were beginning to light up, colored gases and sparks contained within glass globes.  A store innocuously named "Herbs and Spices" was selling mandrake root and essence of belladonna…as well as a fresh bundle of cilantro and a sale on oregano.  Delicate glass and porcelain figurines shined in the setting sun's light, too perfect to be made by mere mortal human hands.  He paused for a bit, his blue eyes lingering five magnificent statues proudly displayed.  A fierce chimera, its eyes narrowed in a leer, growled at him, its lips pulled back showing a magnificent set of teeth.  A unicorn, wise and contemplative, stared back at him with a reflective look.  A falcon, wings spread wide, was captured brilliantly in flight, a silent cry escaping its predatory beak.  Crouching in a waiting stance, Sirius could have sworn the tiger figurine was considering him for dinner.  Lastly a dragon roaring, sharp claws extended and wings spread into the air.  

            There seemed to be room for a sixth.  But there were only five.

            "I knew there was a disturbance.  But I didn't think a mere **wizard** could get through the wards we had set up."

            Sirius' hand immediately connected with his wand and turned to face the person who had spoken, red robes billowing with his movements.  Standing in the light of a golden streetlight, he scrutinized the woman who had spoken.  He was in elemental territory – namely the home ground of a group of people who disliked his kind – and he wasn't going to drop his guard.

            Golden highlights from the lamp gleamed off of wavy crimson hair.  For a moment, he was fiercely reminded of Lily, the deceased wife of his departed best friend.  But no, this woman's locks were a darker red.  It was the deep scarlet of blood, not the flame red that Lily Evans-Potter had.  She wore an odd outfit:  black knee-highs with tight beige khakis.  What he recognized as gauntlets encased the arms that were sheathed by her burgundy shirt, the high collar stark against the deathly pale skin.  A faded black cloak, which only went up to her knees, was around her shoulders.  Despite looking innocent on a flawless face, her light blue eyes held a predatory edge to them.  Similar to Remus' golden ones when he was a werewolf.

            Then again, she probably _was_ quite dangerous to his person.

            "I didn't come here to fight," Sirius proclaimed, making a gesture of peace, but not letting go of his wand.  "I'm only here to search for someone."

            "And why would a wizard be searching for an elemental?" she asked, skepticism lacing every word.  "You aren't a relative of any of the clan members, that I'm sure of."

            Sirius blinked.  "There are wizards that **knew**?"

            "But of course," the woman replied calmly.  "We prefer to keep it only to our families and close friends.  Most wizards have a disturbing habit of disrespecting our kind of magic.  Then again, there are those that do the same within the elementals as well."  She stated this simply and baldly, as if this were an accepted truth.  "Whom are you searching for?"

            "Harry Potter."

            "There is no one here of that name."

            "Then…" He thought for a moment, his mind trying to grasp the strange name of the dark-haired woman.  _One of the leaders, Thanatos had said_.  Surely, this woman would know then?  "Zylle Hawking."

            This got a reaction.  The elemental's eyes widened slightly in surprise before narrowing.  Suddenly, she seemed more predatory than before, a steel edge forming.  "You're that wizard…the one she met after fighting Keane."  He assumed that 'Keane' was the other elemental that this Zylle woman was supposedly fighting with before they met.  "The one who tried to arrest her," the woman spat accusingly.

            Apparently, that move hadn't gone over too well here.

            "I had a reason-"

            "I'm sure you did," she interrupted scathingly.  "And you people wonder why we stay separate from you."

            _How did she know?!_

            "Leave now.  And don't come back."

            Sirius stood his ground.  "I'm not leaving until I see Zylle Hawking."  Moving into the accepted stance of a dueler, he raised his wand.  "Understood."

            The woman sighed in what seemed to be an exasperated manner.  "You are making a mistake that you can back out of."

            "I'm not leaving."

            "Suit yourself," she said flippantly.  "It seems as if I'd have to remove you myself."  He refrained from snorting in laughter.  "Besides, I could use a good fight."

            Before he knew it, he was the recipient of a harsh blow to his chest.  Wincing from both pain and shock, he staggered back, giving her the time to knock him off his feet with a well executed low-kick.  He rolled out of the way, before she could manage to make another attack.

            The sidewalk cracked as the metal of her gauntlets smashed against the solid cement.

            _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

            A blue light surrounded his opponent, but she merely grinned.

            Before standing and giving him a jump kick.  _Reminder:  thank Orville._  Concentrating on the training he received years ago, he managed to catch her foot before it connected with his skull.

            But he didn't expect her to continue to spin in the air.  And certainly wasn't anticipating the sharp chop to his shoulder.  He relinquished his grip, scowling from the attack.  He was certain:  that mere blow managed to break his shoulder blade.  Thinking before she could assault again, he pointed his wand at her.  _"Expelliarmus!"_

            This time, she was flung back.  Not very far, but she was distracted enough for him to tackle her.  He wasn't very experienced in hand-to-hand combat, like these elementals obviously were.  Most Aurors were trained only in the magical arts, relying on their wands and magic.  Very rarely on their strength alone.  Zacharias Orville had taught a class on the basics, but he had only attended a few of them.  This move, from what he remembered (vaguely) from that class, was to pin the enemy down.  Sure enough, the woman was pinned to the ground.

            No threat.  He grinned in victory.

            "Not bad, wizard," she said smirking.  "I'll give you that."

            "I do have a name, you know," Sirius responded confidently.  He had the upper hand now.  "It's Sirius Black."

            "Really?  And here I thought the murderer was _falsely_ convicted."  It appeared that he was still a bit of a celebrity after what happened two years ago.

            "You attacked me!"

            "You wouldn't leave.  And maybe you should know my name.  If you did, you would see why most people wouldn't even **think** of attacking me."

            "And it is…"

            "Mirai Alucard."  She flashed a grin.

            The predatory gaze.  Her deathly pale skin.  The incredible strength and agility.  

            Fangs.

            Vampire fangs.

            _Oh crap._

            He was violently thrown to the side, the supernatural force sending him flying.  As Sirius recovered himself, he looked at the woman (who was brushing the dust off herself in a very unconcerned manner) with new wariness.  Vampires were notorious among the Ministry ranks.  True, most had moved to different countries (particularly America) because of the constant hired slayers looking for a bounty, but they were still dangerous.

            And this one…was an Alucard.  And among the vampires, the Alucards were royalty.  Sired from Vlad Tepes Alucard (or "Dracula" as the muggles called him), the king of the vampires, himself.

            Of all the vampires in the world that he could possibly face he ended up going one-to-one with an Alucard.  His pessimism increased as two blades formed in Mirai's hands.  Jittes, if he could recall from a random history class that he for the most part slept through.  The metal they were made from was bright red, splashes of gold and orange in its surface.  

            And the edges were glowing white, the heat emanating making his skin warm.

            Not good.

            She slashed the air in his direction, white-hot plumes sent at him.  He raised his one arm to his face, the other his wand before saying _"Aegis magus!"_  It was a standard shield spell and probably wouldn't do much against the elemental magic, but it was worth a shot.

            But he felt nothing.

            A gasp from Mirai alerted him to look up.

            Around him, instead of the gray shield of the Aegis Magus spell…were flames.  They absorbed Mirai's power easily, while protecting his body.

            And that was when everything went black.

            "-the students are more terrified of Irving and even more so of Majere!  I am _not_ terrorizing the students, Albus!"

            "Please demonstrate a time when you _don't _terrorize the students!"

            "I only do that to **your** dunderheads, Minerva!"

            "Minerva!  Severus!  Please calm-"

            "But he is right.  I've seen an entire hallway of students be silenced with one word from Irving and just a look from Majere.  Even the Weasley twins don't dare to act up in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

            "Which is a welcome change for us staff members, Lupin-"

            "Ah!"  With that undignified yell, Sirius Black landed hard on the deep red carpeting.  A snide remark, an disbelieving look, someone helping him up, and eyes twinkling in amusement all pointed out that he was in the Headmaster's office.  As he blinked the blurry vision away, he recognized the room:  it's red scheme, the dark wood desk, the silver gadgetry, the Sorting Hat.  Fawkes, the phoenix, sitting serenely in the corner.  He had been in that room often enough when he was a student.  

            "Sirius!" McGonagall exclaimed.  "How on Earth-"

            Dumbledore interrupted, "Hold on a moment, Minerva.  I think he's in a slight state of shock."

            "Padfoot?" Remus asked.  Shaking the other man slightly, Remus sighed, "Padfoot, snap out of it."

            Snape just sneered.  "I doubt a little shaking will bring Black out of his perpetual daze."

            This brought him back.  "Shut it, **Snivellus**!"  

            Whatever Snape retorted with, Sirius did not hear.  Because he noticed that there was another person in the room.  A person that he found quite shocking and a bit irritating.  Though he admitted that – personality-wise – they were quite alike.  For sitting comfortably in one of the Headmaster's armchairs…was Thanatos.  Death seemed to be amused, which didn't help his mood much.  _I bet he has something to do with this…_

            "What are you doing here?!"

            "I **WORK** HERE, Black!"

            "Not you," Sirius snapped.  He pointed accusingly at the god.  "I meant him!"

            Snape looked directly at Thanatos, who just waved merrily, before turning back to the Auror.  "There's no one there.  Wonderful.  We have a mentally unstable murderer here."

            He just shrugged it off.  "Well?  Answer!"  At the moment, he didn't quite care about the concerned (and one condescending) looks he was getting.

            _"This is the thanks I get for saving your life?  I never thought you'd be so ungrateful!  You're breaking my heart!_"  For good measure, the god put on an expression of hurt while holding a hand to his heart.  

            "You know what?  I don't care about that!  What did you do?!"

            _"Temper, temper, my adorable little descendant.  Remember who you're dealing with."_

            "Shut up!"

            _"Now how can I answer you then if I'm supposed to shut up?  You really shouldn't be so unclear."_

            Sirius gave a baffled look to the deity before closing his eyes, massaging his temples in slow circles.  "One moment, I'm in Grey Tower."  The Auror missed the sudden intense glance the Potions Master threw at him.  "The next, I'm here.  **You** are here.  Explain."

            _"Well, I can't let you just **die** right now.  It's not your time.  And I do have to look after you.  I mean, you're family!  Didn't you learn how to deal with vampires?"_

            "No!"

            _"Oh.  Well, that clears things up a great deal.  I was wondering why you were doing so poorly against her.  Though she is an Alucard.  Impressive family.  Anything else?"_

"Yes," he gestured to the other four in the room.  Five now, if you counted one Phineas Nigellus, who had wandered in.  Armando Dippet had left the Headmaster's office to alert him to his now "insane" great-grandson.  Though judging from the side conversation, Phineas seemed to be eyeing the armchair Thanatos was resting on suspiciously.  "Why can't **they** see you?"

            _"One, they have no real 'connection' to me, unlike you.  And two, I didn't want them to.  But that can be remedied."_  Thanatos snapped his fingers.  One look at the others told him all that he needed to know.

            "How did he get in here?" McGonagall demanded.  All four (for Phineas couldn't hold a wand for lack of anatomy) had their wands trained on the stranger.  Thanatos, in what Sirius could gather was his normal way, just faced it with an unnerving lack of seriousness.  Though Phineas was throwing startled looks between him and the god.

            "Easily, dear lady," Thanatos replied.  "I can go anywhere I please."  He then paused, studying Phineas intently.  "Oh!  I remember you!  You're another descendant of mine."  He laughed jovially.  "You were the one that acted so much like Moros, it was just _scary_.  And if Phobos and Deimos admit it, then it **has** to be true!"

            The occupants of the room just blinked in confusion.  Before a violent quake knocked them off their feet and sending Fawkes to take flight because his stand fell.  

            "Well, I'd best be going," replied the god of death.  "**She** really doesn't like me.  Honestly…and she calls **me **immature!  And now that I think about it I think that I'm older than she is…oh well.  See you again!  And keep trying!  Don't let Mel get you down!"  With that and a small whirlwind, Thanatos disappeared.

            "Sirius," Lupin managed to say in the stunned silence, "who was that?"

            "Nathaniel Black.  Thanatos.  Death.  Whichever one you prefer."

            Severus, the man of wit and sarcasm that he was, then said blandly.  "Then I was right.  You do live to kill me.  It's in your blood."

            "The finalists for the title of Black Dragon are Mordecai Freely and Nuitari Hawking!  The next match will take place tomorrow at sundown!"

            He  had made it to the finals.

            Now only one person stood in the way of achieving his goal.  That person was the water elemental, Mordecai Freely.  He wouldn't back down, even if Mordecai had proven to be, for lack of better words, dangerous.

            But what was that scene during the fight?  Was it a…memory?  He'd have to discuss it with Zylle and maybe Dr. Diamante later.  At the moment though, the tournament was the most important thing on his mind.

            _And I **will** win,_ Nuitari Hawking pledged to himself.

            I wonder sometimes…is it worth it?

            Is it worth it?  To lose so much?  What have I gained from what I have done?

            Even now, I begin to wonder if it mattered to begin with, for I am not given credit for what many others and I did.  Instead, those who opposed what was done are said to have done it.  And they, in their warped egotistical sense of self, do not contest this claim.

            Why?

            It is simple.  Because I am supposedly dead.  But I'm not.  I'm just…detained.  

            Though I really shouldn't be very surprised at this.  Before, when I was 'alive', they were scared of even insulting me in private.  Yet, as soon as the others and I were gone, they ruthlessly took what was ours and twisted it, deforming it from what could have been a thing of beauty.  If not for them, things would have been much better.

            However, I am not surprised in the least.  They, of course, would view anything that we had accomplished to be something to be destroyed, a threat to their existence.

            After all, I am a harbinger.  Our purpose in the great design:  to destroy.  We were given many, many names in the pasts. I remember the planet of Xyner gave us the epithet of "the harbingers of chaos who fly on death-shadowed wings".  It is probably from that soubriquet that became known as 'harbingers'.  Very few that were light-born understood the true impact of our task.  For how can anything be built without destruction?  In a universe as full as this, for something to be made there must be room made for it to be created.  That was my job, what all of our jobs were.  My hands are stained with the blood, tears, and dust of countless organisms, individuals, societies, civilizations, gods, and worlds.  Do I feel guilty?  In a sense, yes.  But no one understands that out of the ruins of old, the new will rise, hopefully building up from what had came before.  That was what made my task worth it, worth everything.

            It was the Golden Age, a time of great accomplishment and culture.  Planets and civilizations billions of years (I believe the humans have called it light years) away from each other communicated with each other in peace and harmony.  Knowledge was available to the lowest of organisms and the highest of kings.  Scarcity was something unknown in this time of prosperity and abundance.  Magic was given to everyone, commonplace in the great scheme of things.  While my companions and I were largely feared, the peoples of the universe rose up to the challenge that we brought and overcame them, furthering themselves and their lives.  They were what made everything worth it.  Hundreds of gods presided over the planets, all united under the Great Triumvirate:  the Almighty, the Universe, and the Chaos.  Althelion, god of truth, and the Dark Sovereign kept order and the peace.  An age I greatly miss.

            The dark deities, children of the Universe, and light-born god, created by the Almighty, coexisted relatively well.  Not how it is now.  Even now, I believe, that Erebus, the god-king of darkness, and Aether, the god-king of light, still are good friends, as are their wives:  the stately Nyx and the bubbly Hemera.  Though I was much closer to the dark ones.  Perhaps because we were both created by the same individual?  Probably.  Though their children never ceased to amuse me.

            There were the angels.  They were our messengers, though back then, they were given much more free will and reign.  Though some did defect, becoming agents of destruction that, unlike myself, would yield nothing.  Their destruction was also part of my task.  

            Then it happened.  Krynn was created to be a haven for a great civilization of magic-users.  That was the original plan.  But someone incited the goddess Tahkisis against her consort Palatine.  I say someone, because now I know who it was.  It caused a great conflict on that planet and the balance of the Universe was thrown.  To add to disorder, Althelion was killed.  In an attempt to quell the cause, I was sent to Krynn as a god of black magic.  I became Tahkisis' youngest son and attempted to reach a balance.  However, I found out too late that Destiny decreed it to be this way.  I left the planet with the other gods years later, returning to my harbinger role, but retaining the name I was given.  Things had only worsened.  Planets and peoples were dying at a rapid rate, which had nothing to do with the others or myself.  The balance, which was steadily deteriorating, was taking its toll.  I do not think there are many other peoples left in the universe currently.

            A new planet was going to be created: one called Earth.  The Almighty was in a vengeance against the Chaos, who had made a demonic world without consulting the other three.  The Universe, the great mother, had already left for somewhere unknown.  I don't know where.  The individuals of this 'Earth' were going to be 'dead'.  That was my opinion.  They would live in a 'dead' world of perfection with no individuality or flaws.  There were many planets like this at the time, both the Almighty and the Chaos trying to overcome the other.  Both sides would not listen to our pleas for a compromise.

            It was then that we came to a decision.  It was then that we gave our gift.  And we were punished for it.  Either side could not kill us, since our creator was gone.  So our souls were banished among the peoples and societies that we had animated.  Though some of us received fates worse than others.  I am one, as is the Sovereign, Megami, Falcifer, and Hiroshi.  Darius, the greatest of the harbingers, would go down as well.

            My last memory was that of Erebus' and Nyx' youngest child at the time.  Melania Amarna, darkness eternal.  She was playing with Thanatos, he who brings death.  The mischief that he brought!  She was a precocious child, though Nyx mentioned that the young goddess distinctly disliked another slightly older light-born goddess, Pheta.

            But we are not completely dead.  A part of us still retains our old knowledge and the means to reclaim our power, buried in the subconscious of our souls.  Destiny foretold we would come back.  And when I was banished, I swore I would reawaken in one born of the line of darkness.  I merely watch from and wait until the day finally comes.  When I can fly across the skies, the seas, and the celestial mists on my black wings again.

            The day that I, Nuitari, would know if it was all genuinely worth it.

            I give thee my faults.

*************

I have a lot going on and my merciless teachers keep adding more!  Check my profile page for details.  Good news is that I passed my Chemistry midterm.  I hope this chapter was worth the wait.  Quatre Winner (thanks so much!) graciously offered to host any fanart (I'd love to see any) and my review responses.  I haven't given any for the last chapter, but I will respond to everyone's reviews for this one.  So go there to have your questions answered.  The site is posted on my profile.

~Raven Dragonclaw

**This chapter:  The Flames of Battle**

· The results of the battle between Dudley, his friends, Harry, and the Death Eaters.

· A Phantom elemental attack near Hogsmeade causes some concern.

· Zylle's worries and Lavinia's suspicions.

· Mordecai Freely vs. Bran Ravencroft

· Simeon Bradley vs. Nuitari Hawking (Harry)

· Sirius finds Grey Tower and is confronted by Mirai.  Thanatos moves him out of danger.

· The announcement of the finalists and Harry's reaction.

· The musings of the harbinger called 'Nuitari'.

Next chapter:  The Black Dragon 

· Melania, Tom, and the elemental gods.

· Harry's family and friends give him encouragement before the final match.

· Three intrepid wizards decide to try to enter Grey Tower (Sirius, Remus, and Severus).  Unfortunately for them, they run into the goddess of mischief herself.

· Thanatos and Iris at the Castle in the Sky.

· Voldemort's growing confidence and Pheta's suspicions.

· Nuitari Hawking vs. Mordecai Freely for the title of Black Dragon

· The Black Dragon, and the other leaders of the clans are introduced and formally given their titles.

· Harry receives his eye mark (for reference: see the end of Chapter 9 where Mirabelle and Harry talk.

**Note:  Chapter 34 is the last chapter of Genesis.  Then I'll move on to Elemental Prophecies.  **


	33. The Black Dragon

Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower.

***************************************************************************

Chapter Thirty-Three:  The Black Dragon

            "Popcorn?"

            "Check."

            "Cola."

            "Check."

            "Bottle of scotch…wait a second.  Aquarius!"

            "What?  I like a good drink when watching a fight!"

            "Fine, fine…couches?"

            "We're sitting on them."

            "Oh…why am I performing the checklist with _you_ of all people?"

            "Simple.  Tom is setting up the viewing screen, Melania is making the popcorn, and Rin will return shortly with my bottle of scotch.  Hence, there is only me."

            "Wonderful."

            Such was the conversation between Aquarius, god of water, and Kybele, the goddess of earth.  Currently, they were both sitting comfortably on couches in a sitting chamber in the Castle of Annuvin.  Of course, everything maintained its dark theme, but it wasn't only just black and gray, but also deep reds, navy blues, and forest greens.  Swords and other magical items adorned the walls and cases in the room, along with a few vials of questionable potions.  But, with the exception of Melania's own personal rooms, this was one of the more relaxed rooms in the building.  The blue-haired god sat next to Kybele, lounging comfortably, all the while sneering at some marine biology magazine.  Kybele, in frustration, shook her long green braids and smacked him upside the head.

            "What was that for?!"

            "For being yourself!"

            "What, is that a crime now?!"

            "Apparently," returned Tom sarcastically, as he unceremoniously banged on the surface of the glass mounted on the wall.  "How does this damn thing work?!"

            "Hey!" Kybele said angrily.  "That's a viewing screen, not some telesiphon!"

            "Television, Kybele," Tom corrected reflexively.  "But does it show you things?"

            "Well, yes…"

            "Then banging on it should work!"

            "How in the name of the Almighty do you get that?!"

            "Simple," Aquarius put in.  "If they have the same function and nearly the same parts, then the process should be the same, if not similar."

            "I just don't get you!  Men!"

            "What about 'men'?" Tom asked.

            "You're all just selfish pigs!  You always leave the seat up!  You never clean up after yourselves and you have the strangest, most self-satisfying goals in a relationship that's possible!  You never have time for the kids and when you do, it's usually to just take them somewhere 'nice', so you're the nice parent!  You'd never survive as women, not even for a day!  And I'd just love to see a man handle giving birth!"

            Tom grimaced.  "Thank god, I'm a man.  I've seen a woman giving birth once before when I had a body at the orphanage and if I were that woman, truthfully, I would never want to see the child again after going though all that pain."  _Though look what happened to my own mother…_

            "Hear, hear to that!  I mean, I can barely deal with a woman when she is having their menstrual cycle – uh…hello…ladies…heh, heh…heh."  Turning around, Tom saw exactly what made Aquarius suddenly stop talking and become so…nervous.  First of all, Kybele looked as if she were about to explode.  The same went for Melania and Rin, who had entered the room during the discussion, holding various bottles of cola and snacks in their arms.

            "Lady?" Tom asked hesitantly.

            Melania gave him a piercing stare to show that she was listening.

            "How do you get this to work?"

            "Hit it a few times."

            Tom then wisely moved out of the way as three angry women beset Aquarius.  He shook his head wryly before proceeding to bang on the viewing screen again.  He knew that he was right.

            _Another fight?_

            **Yes.  Weren't you listening?**

            _No, not really.  _

            **You are impossible!**

            _I am not!  Now can you please explain to me what you mean?_

            **This is the last fight of that tournament.**

            _Ah.  Which our master will win, of course._

            **You haven't considered that our master can lose, Kardis?**

            _Nope.  Never crossed, my mind once, White Owl.  Why?  Do you doubt the master?_

**Hardly so.**

_Then why did you point that out if you have no doubt he will win either?_

            **Have you ever met Destiny before?**

            _Yeah…she was the one that freed me.  Spoken to her?  Then, no._

**Well, anyway, she's a very fickle goddess.  One snap of her fingers and – poof! – everything's different.**

            _Only a snap of her fingers?_

            **Only one snap.**

            _Impressive.  But have you ever spoken to her yourself?_

**I have never spoken to her directly myself-**

_Ha!  So you can't mock me!_

**            But I have seen and heard her speak with Lord Erebus back in the dark realm of Tartarus.**

            _Lord Erebus?  The Lord Erebus?  Surely you must be joking.  To be in the presence of the great god-king of darkness?  One of the most ancient deities?_

**He actually prefers it when you don't discuss age.  Most of the ancient gods do.**

            _Well, he must be pretty old looking considering how long it has been._

            **Truthfully, he doesn't look a day over forty.**

            _Seriously?_

            **Yep.  **

            _Wonder what's his secret?_

            **Wish I knew.**

            _Yeah…I mean, I'd die if I started getting fat like some common housecat…_

**Really?**

            _I don't like your tone_…

******NO, I'm just remembering a certain _cat_ that probably has put on a quite a few pounds since we've met…**

            _…You are very, **very** infuriating._

            **Thank you.  Now let's watch the master win his duel.**

            _Right on!  Any wagers?_

            **Please, as if he's going to lose.**

            _Why, I'm just remembering a certain owl that mentioned it._

            **I will admit that there is a chance…**

            _Got you!_

            **Just because I said Destiny is fickle, doesn't mean she'll suddenly change her mind here.**

            _You should have become a lawyer or something._

            **I'll take that as a compliment.**

            _I'm not nervous…I'm not nervous…I'm not nervous…_

            Yes, he was nervous.  Very much so.  It was the final match of the tournament, where all his hard work would truly matter.  It wasn't as if he were facing a normal opponent after all.  He was going to duel someone who was on an equal level as he was, who also pushed himself hard to get where they were now.  And Mordecai was definitely strong.  Bran was one of the best in the clan, even Professor Coulter admitted it, and Mordecai beat him.  Of course, there was the elemental advantage to consider, but there was no mistake.  It would be very difficult to defeat Mordecai Freely.  He'd probably have to use all of his elements and not stick to one.  That was his advantage as his opponent could only use the water element.

            There was no time anymore to think.  He put on his black fighter's gloves, flexing his fingers as he did so.  He was ready.  As ready as he would ever be anyway.  As he stood up to leave, he heard a rustle of wings before Hedwig flew to perch on his shoulder.  Looking down, he saw Shadow rubbing his legs contentedly.  Night couldn't hide the smile.  He was very surprised at the beginning when the two first met.  After all, birds and cats were natural enemies.  But they seemed to get along just fine, though he could swear that the two argued from time to time.  From what he could tell, since some days they'd glare at each other and others they'd just put up it.  He didn't know what it was about, but he was happy about it.  Though, Zylle warned him about more pets.  She apparently had a hatred of dogs – especially big ones - since she was younger.  Shaking his head and trying to refocus on the match, he walked out of his room, bird on his shoulder, cat on his heels.

            As he descended the stairs, he found everyone waiting for him at the bottom.  Bran was standing near an amused Mirai, his two younger sisters holding on to each of his hands, literally jumping with excitement.  The red-haired fire elemental looked more worried than excited though, the cautious look in his blue eyes made more pronounced by the bandage around his head.  Trina was chatting happily with her father, looking very unconcerned when flashing him a sure grin as he came down.  Gran was holding a giant bowl of what looked like rich chocolate pudding, which Hans kept trying to eat when she wasn't looking.  Judging from the chocolate around his mouth, he was pretty successful.  Professor Coulter was off to the side, away from the rest, though she didn't look particularly annoyed by her surroundings.

            Zylle was standing right at the foot of the stairs, looking up at him with an emotion he couldn't identify in her gray eyes.

            "Don't be so nervous!" Trina enthused.  "You'll win, no doubt."  Jonathan merely nodded in agreement, not speaking at all.  Then again, this was not something new.  Jonathan Smythe was the very silent type and rarely spoke unless it was about something very important or merely just to be polite.

            Two energetic red-haired girls then overwhelmed him.  Phyllis and Caroline both gave him giant hugs and started chattering happily.  Bran looked slightly embarrassed by their behavior and mumbled something about pudding.  He thanked them each for their encouragement and then they ran off squealing back to their older brother, who, if possible, became even more awkward.  But there was no need for words.  Night knew that Bran wished him the best of luck.  The fire elemental was just never good at that sort of thing, which made sense considering Trina's optimistic attitude usually made up for his nature..

            "The cars," Jonathan reminded the gathering.  There were a few moments of confusion, but they managed to sort out who was going in whose car.  The tumult was made worse when Gran stuffed a heaping spoonful of pudding in his mouth.

            "You need your energy!  This is an important match!"

            "Sarah…" Hans wheedled.

            "No," she replied firmly.  "You've had enough!"

            "But I'm an old man!  I need my energy, too," he pouted.  

            "I think you've have had enough energy already," she countered, "You have chocolate pudding all over your face.  Now c'mon!  We need better seats this time.  Where are those pets?"  Hedwig, after nipping his ear, flew to Gran.  Shadow, with one final purr and leg rub, bounded over to Gran's feet, looking up at her expectantly.

            "No, chocolate isn't good for cats."  Shadow made what could be described as a complaint to this, but the older woman merely ignored it, too used to the black feline's appetite already.

            "Fine…" he grumbled.  "But you do have a point.  Shouldn't we get special seating?  I mean, we are the former leaders…veterans, even!"  This thread of complaining continued as they walked out and Night could feel the old house laughing along with them.  Soon, it was only Mirai, Professor Coulter, Zylle, and himself left in the foyer.

            The vampire approached him and ruffled his gold and silver streaked black hair affectionately, smiling warmly at him.  Though some of the effect was lost by the fact that her fangs, feral and sharp, showed.  "Good luck, little Nuitari."  She laughed shortly.  "I doubt you would need it though, now would you?  You were trained by the best!  And you did well!  You even survived **Vinnie**!""

            ""You make me sound like some cruel slave master," Professor Coulter interceded.

            ""Well, if what your students say is true, then it must not be too far off from the truth."

            "Bah," the brunette returned, peering imperiously over her spectacles.  She then turned her gaze to him.  "You will win.  There is no doubt about that.  You know water is strong, but it does have its weaknesses."  She then knelt down and kissed him on the cheek.  He blinked in surprise, but she was already leaving the house, an amused Mirai right behind her.

            "I certainly didn't expect her to do that."  He looked around to find his mother staring down at him, a somber look in her eyes and a small smile on her lips.  "It's hard to believe, really.  It's been only a month and it's like you were always a part of my life."

            "Mum…"

            "No, I'm getting this out now.  Besides, we aren't allowed to show any type of favoritism at the stadium."  She enveloped him in a hug and kissed his forehead.  "I don't care if you win or lose.  I'm just happy you're here."  For good measure, she mussed his hair in an affectionate, motherly fashion, making him feel less nervous than he was before.

            Returning the embrace, he murmured, "Thanks, mum…" He knew that she was happy for him, but he also had the feeling that she feared losing him.  There was always that chance.  If he did recover his memory, then the clan probably would have to return him to his proper guardians and he'd never see Grey Tower again.  Then there was the fact that the Phantom Elementals were bound to target him because of her status as the strongest leader.  He wasn't sure if it was to the now dangerous times or to his past.  But she didn't want to let him go.

            It was then that he made his decision.  That no matter what, even if he did recover his memory of his past, he would always view Zylle Hawking as his mother.  And he'd like to see someone try to separate him from her.

            "Are you **sure** that you're not lost, Black?  Because I'm beginning to question that."

            "Be quiet, Snape!  I don't need your worthless comments right now.  Can't you see that I'm concentrating?!"

            "Really?  Call the Prophet!  Black is actually _thinking_.  It's a miracle."

            "Do you want me to concentrate on finding the place or doing a repeat of what we did in fifth year?!"

            "Sirius, Severus!  Would you please act like mature adults towards each other?  For once?"

            "Like Black can be mature!"

            "At least I'm likable, you greasy git!"

            "Likable?  _You?!_  For Merlin's sake, you're a convict!"

            "Maybe you haven't been paying attention to the news, Snivelly, but that's **_ex-convict_** and let me add, falsely accused!"

            Remus Lupin, the resident professor of History of Magic at the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, felt as though there was a large and considerably angry Hungarian Horntail was ramming itself into the sides of his brain.  Repetitively.  He had a good reason for feeling this way.  A _very_ good reason for feeling this way, yes, he did.  For he was spending what should have been a semi-relaxing weekend of grading papers and looking for Harry (often at the same time.  He was a great multitasker.), instead, wandering around the greater part of London with two irritable, short-tempered buffoons.  One of these was his long-time best friend, Sirius Black.  Under normal circumstances, Remus would have been able to calm his friend down and ultimately be led to the point.

            Under **normal** circumstances.

            Unfortunately for said Remus Lupin, this was not the case.

            Severus Snape, fellow professor and Potions Master, felt the need to accompany them on this search for the elusive elemental community.  He, being the snarky and generally disagreeable person that he was, did not give his reasons as to why.  He merely said he was going out of curiosity.  Though this was a good reason, Remus could not help feeling that it wasn't the entire reason.  If Severus Snape were curious, then he would have at least waited for Sirius to find the place before going there himself.

            Either way, he came along, to Remus' chagrin and Sirius' anger.  Even if the two promised that they would work together, they argued and fought with each other.  Their reason:  the promise had been based on the premise that they would **try** to get along.  That was the key word there.  _Try._

            "OKAY, IF YOU TWO DON'T STOP YOUR SENSELESS BICKERING RIGHT NOW, I'LL TURN YOU BOTH INTO…"

            "Slices of cheese?" a young, cheerful voice put in helpfully.

            "YES!  SLICES OF CHEESE!  AND YOU KNOW WHAT?  IT'S GOING TO BE CHEDDAR – wait a moment."

            "Moony?" Sirius asked in a concerned tone of voice.  "Are you alright?  Maybe you should go home or something…"

            "For once I have to agree with Black."  Snape then sneered, "Really, Lupin?  Cheese?  I'm sure you would have done _wonderfully _in the Dark Lord's ranks."

            "Out of curiosity, who's the 'Dark Lord'?" interrupted that same jovial, obviously feminine, voice.

            "You know," Sirius said offhandedly.  "Volde- hold on!"

            All three men whirled around.  Behind them, they saw no one.

            "Hey!  Down here!  Honestly, tall people…" Simultaneously, all three wizards looked down to see a small woman that looked a few years their junior.  Actually she was quite short, only reaching just up to Remus' shoulder and between the three of them, he was the shortest.  She gave them an impish grin, making her look incredibly innocent.  The candy pink tank-top and flowered skirt further forwarded this impression of virtuousness.  Remus was certain that those gold and silver flecked blue eyes had a familiar quality to them, like he had seem something similar long ago, but couldn't quite place them.

            But pure white hair?  That was definitely not normal.  This wasn't an extremely pale blond.  No, it was honest to goodness _white_.  She had its length cut to her chin, the tips attractively curving into her face.  She sounded foreign, her accent reminding him of a fast-talking American Auror from New York City he had met a few years ago at a party when James was still alive.  But why did she stop them?  Certainly they didn't look _that_ out of place.

            Okay, Severus **was** getting several odd looks for walking around in that billowy trenchcoat and all black attire – but c'mon!  When did he _not_ prefer black?  _Though_, Remus reflected, _the fact that Sirius originally gave him a pink shirt probably had something to do with it._  It wasn't even a light pink.  It was a lurid, shocking pink eyesore.  He was certain that normal men wouldn't wear a shirt like that.  Severus described it himself as "Lockhart-esque."

            In which all three persons had to agree was not and never will be a good thing.

            "Can we help you, miss?" he asked helpfully.  She was most likely lost or something to that effect.  Looking over cautiously at the incorrigible pair that he had to work with, hopefully this could get done quickly.

            "Well, you see," she answered charmingly.  "I'm looking for a specific store.  Can you help me find it?  I'm really new to London."  She chuckled to herself while shaking her head.  "I just flew in three days ago and it's been _hell_ getting around this place."  He could already hear Severus growling in agitation.  Though he would have figured that more from Sirius.  "Honestly, you Brits are odd.  If it's Trafalgar Square, why's it shaped like a circle?  Do you know how horrible it was getting past that?  And the pigeons there!  And I thought New York was bad!"  Apparently, he was right.  An American New Yorker.  "Queues!  That's such a funny word! But I loved those…what are they…biscuits!  Yes, those were delicious!"

            "As much as we'd love to show you around London, miss-"

            "Tamara LeStrade."

            "Miss LeStrade," Remus corrected, "but we really need to be-"

            "But you can't leave me here!" she exclaimed.  With growing dread, he noticed her full red lips begin to pout and tremble.  "I'm completely lost!  Surely, you can't just abandon me without having any idea where to go!"  For some reason, he felt his mind starting to feel cloudy as well as he was beginning to feel…guilty?!

            "Fine!" Severus relented, his curt voice cutting through the growing fog.  Remus blinked.  _What had happened?_  Looking across at Sirius, he saw him observing Tamara carefully, as if suspicious.  However, that expression soon turned to shock.  A shock that he knew was mirrored on his own face.

            For Tamara launched herself at Severus, her arms encircling his neck as she hugged him.  What was amusing was that she had to stand on her tips of her feet to do this.  Also, the grumpy Potions Master was forced to swing her around just to stay on his feet.

            This was new.

            "Thank you so much!  Oh, I just love you for this, you cool person!  You're such a _doll_!"

            Very new.

(())(())(())

            _Okay, we've been to probably the majority of London's clothing stores and she **still **hasn't found the place?!  _It had been a tough day, particularly for the said men of the group.  Currently, they still were following a somehow still cheerful American woman with white hair.  To make things worse, all three of them just had to be gentlemen and carry her bags.  From what Remus could hear behind the many hatboxes that Severus was carrying (there was a small gap between the boxes so the man could see where he was going), the irate Snape was gnashing his teeth in anger as well as muttering some choice comments about Americans.

            Why were they carrying these bags and boxes?

            Simple.

            Because they just _had_ to be gentlemen.

            Though, Remus did have to admit with a scowl, it was mostly the other two's fault.  At one store that they were trying, Tamara had spent over twenty minutes looking over the various dresses, flittering about here and there like a sugar-high butterfly.  It would have gone on like this if Severus hadn't gotten so annoyed that he said he might as well buy them for her.  Unfortunately for the said person, Tamara hadn't picked up on his sarcasm and after another one of her hugs, Severus was forced to pay.  And it was Sirius' fault for relieving her of the bags.

            From the last count, Remus would have to estimate that they had gone to over fifty stores in the past six hours.  But this was an estimate, since he lost count somewhere after thirty-six.  Their entire day, gone!  The sun was had nearly completely set in the western horizon, leaving a murky purple sky overhead.  _Wait until Dumbledore hears this…_Then again, the old Headmaster would probably find it amusing that a petite young woman with white hair dragged two of his professors and an Auror around the greater part of London.  And then he'd offer a lemon drop.  Albus Dumbledore was indeed, odd.

            He couldn't deny it was interesting.  For some odd reason, a lot of accidents happened by Tamara.  Remus was now proud to say that he actually slipped on a banana peel.  However, he could have done without being chased by over-affectionate poodles, the slop of mayonnaise some woman decided to throw out the window (which landed on Severus' hair.  Tamara said, "No worries, it does your hair wonders!"), the out-of-control tea cart (which had _very_ hot tea), the women changing in the lingerie department's dressing rooms running out because of the "opportune" appearance of a giant rat, getting arrested, being cornered by some mob called the "Noble Order of Asymptotes" whose performed some kind of Robin Hood-like operation, and some random woman they had never met before in their lives coming up to Sirius claiming that he was some singing idol from years ago and that she had borne him a son.

            Yes, Severus got Sirius back with _that _one.

            "Well, boys, here we are!  Thanks for your help, I really appreciate it."  Remus blinked.  Without him knowing, they were standing in front of a large clothing store.  Its window was dark, no lights were on, and there was a large closed sign hanging on the door.  However, Tamara looked unperturbed.  "I mean you spent your **entire **day caring for little ole me, when you could've been on your way to Grey Tower!  Such gentlemen!"

            He felt as if he were just splashed in the face with arctic-cold ice water.  "What did you say?"  He could see the other two with similar shocked expressions.

            "I merely was complimenting your gallantry.  And here I thought chivalry was dead!"

            "How do you know all this?" Severus breathed angrily.

            "Simple.  Nat and Mel told me."

            "Nat and Mel?" Remus asked.

            However, he knew something was up when Sirius started cursing.  "You're one of _them_?!"

            "What, a Death Eater?" Remus had severe doubt over this.  He was quite certain that she wasn't one.  Just looking at her, you could tell.  Either that, or Voldemort was getting more clever with his agents.  But that was doubtful, since Severus would have known about it.  A cheerful female Death Eater that wasn't psychotic and actually good-looking was bound to stick out like a sore thumb.

            "Thanatos sent you, didn't he?" Sirius accused.  _Now I see…_That's why those blue eyes were familiar.  They were almost exactly the same as Thanatos, or Nathaniel Black's.  The image of the man with the merry nature and dark robes still stuck in his mind, probably because he never thought that he would meet a long-thought dead ancestor of Sirius' (that was nice for once) and also, he didn't really think Death would be…_him_.  As for that mischievous quality, he was reminded of Padfoot's own pale blues when they were younger…during those carefree days as the Marauders of Hogwarts.

            "Not at all!  You see, I saw you looking for Grey Tower.  Now I had to do something about **that**.  But I really didn't know what.  I do love Nat dearly after all.  The best older brother in the world!  But Mel can be a real terror when she's angry.  So I compromised."

            "Older brother?"

            "Yep," Tamara nodded.  "I'm his younger sister, Ate, resident goddess of mischief.  I must say you do know how to hold up the family name.  Don't be modest, I was watching when you were all at Hogwarts."

            _How appropriate.  _Snape looked as if he were going to die of horror.  "You satisfied both of them," Remus noted blandly.  They really needed to get back to the point.

            "Exactly.  I kept you away from Grey Tower, so that took care of Mel.  But I did it in a funny way to satisfy Nat.  See?  No worries for me at all."  The goddess then looked at the watch on her hand, it being a fitting black and pink.  "Now I really must be going.  The fight's going to begin soon and I don't want to miss that."  Before Remus knew it, he had been hugged and kissed on the cheek.  He blinked before seeing that she did the same for the other two men.  "See you around!  Don't hesitate to call me!  I have no qualms about spending afternoons with cute guys.  Enjoy Edinburgh!"  With a sharp crack and a suggestive wink, Tamara, or rather, Ate was gone.  Along with all the shopping bags.

            So here they were, stranded in Edinburgh (how had she done that without them knowing), broke, because of a cute goddess with a troublemaking streak.

            "I hate you, Black," Severus proclaimed into the silence that followed Ate's departure.  "You and your damn relatives."

            Turning to his friend, he saw the former convict looking at the space where Ate was with abject confusion and horror.  "You okay, Padfoot?"

            "My **_aunt_**just called **_Snivellus_**cute."

            There was a pregnant pause before two loud thumps announced two men fainting.

            Though Remus couldn't blame them.  That was a bit disturbing.

            "And so it begins!  I assume you have also come to observe it as well?"

            "Why do you persist in causing me annoyance?!"

            "I?  Annoy _you_?  My dear lady, you wound me!"

            The goddess Iris felt the urge to tear out her red mottled violet hair.  The beams of sunlight filtering through the stained glass created colored patches on the smooth dark green marble, tawny amber veins running through the stone like rivers.  Pale fingers drummed against the railing of a balcony made of similar stone, the woman looking through clear windows facing the south in the viewing deck chamber.  There were eight of the viewing decks all together, each facing a cardinal direction, all other windows were of the stained glass variety.

            She bit her lip angrily.  She should have known what she was getting into when she asked Thanatos what was going on.  And, now that she was aware of everything that was going on, she wished she was still in the dark, still oblivious to the danger.  Her sister, her sibling, was trying to destroy what was created.  Merely because of a silly grudge!

            If it were only that!

            No.  There was definitely something wrong with her sister's mind.  And it all made sense now.  The failed Krynn…the death of Althelion…the Harbingers disbanded and most likely annihilated.  And now she had the obliteration of the Universe in mind.  Though Pheta did not know _that_.  Thanatos had explained what the Dark Gateway would unleash.  She, as a light goddess, wouldn't know such things, but he being the son of the god of darkness would.  For if Tartarus was opened, then the Hellworld would be opened as well.  And no one would be able to stand the hoard of evil demons and not even those said monstrosities could never survive the wicked angels, the Maleficus.

            "…Why don't you go and do your job?!"

            "Why should I?  I do have people working under me.  And I certainly can't miss this."

            "Oh, I'm sure you can.  How many people will die today?  Check that…book of yours."

            "The Book of Days?"  A thick black book appeared in the dark god's hands and once the cover was opened, the fingers of those hands leafed through the parchment paper pages rapidly.  "About…three million worldwide.  My those diseases hit a population hard, now don't they?  You would think that with all the technology that they worship, the humans would save much more."  The book was closed with a snap and vanished.  "But a balance is a balance."

            So here she was, watching the young man compete in the final round of the competition.  Insignificant in the scheme of things? Possibly.  A mere title does not give one power.  But it was time for this descendant of Melania, the Dark Prince, the one that was hunted by both god and mortal, to prove himself in combat against an opponent on nearly the same level as he.  If he could not win here, then facing Pheta would definitely be a problem in the future.

            And it was going to begin soon.

            "Do you remember the Harbingers, Iris?"  She knew where Thanatos was, even if he was behind her.  Leaning against the pillar to one of the lower sections of the castle, looking though that particular window.  Every time she saw him, he was always looking out that window.  Light poured through the glass to illuminate a regal crown of royal blue, sunshine gold, and blood red.  Around this symbol, the representation of the Great Triumvirate, was a circle of feathers, dark purple colored alternating with painted white, all on a background of viridian green.  

            She sighed and turned to face him.  Her hands absentmindedly wringed the orange and blue sash of her yellow gown as she forced her pale green eyes to meet the proud deep blue of the god of death.  "I was too young, not even born yet.  Why do you ask?  You know that they are cursed, especially those who played the major roles."

            Thanatos laughed lightly.  His tall form was relaxed, a black and silver robe loose around his figure and once more he was wearing black jeans with a white dress-shirt, a wry smile on his handsome face.  "You would not understand!  As for why, I was merely curious.  I, after all, had met them."

            "You had?"  He was older than she thought, if he remembered the Harbingers that well.  Though it was not uncommon.  Pheta and several other siblings of hers had existed during the time as well.  The difference lay in the way Thanatos spoke of them.  Most spoke of them with bitter sadness or hatred, but he…he had the tone of someone…who **missed** them.  Actually and truly, missed them.

            "Oh yes.  But I was very young at the time."  He paused here for a moment, looking lost in thought.  "You might say that, if you were to compare the much slower maturing rate of a god to the human rate, then I was about six.  Melania, using the same scale, was two, and I was happy to have a new playmate."  A sly grin.  "You know how Artemis, Moros, and Hypnos are.  All of the Harbingers used to visit my parents quite a bit.  But out of all of them, I remember those that were Unforgiven most of all."  The Unforgiven, they were the ones who received the worst out of all the punishments.  From what little Iris could get from her father, these were the most powerful, the wisest, and the most influential out of all the Harbingers.  The greatest of those who flew on death-shadowed wings.  

            "Most cannot forget them after they've met them," Iris replied neutrally, wondering where this was going.  

            "That is true," Thanatos murmured.  "Which is why I believe they aren't gone."

            A ringing silence met his soft statement, hanging in the air like the sound of a lone piano note clear in its beauty and meaning.  But where was the rest of the melody?  The accompaniment.

            "But that's impossible," Iris exclaimed.  "That would be against the power of the Almighty, one of the Trinity!"

            "You've heard the stories.  The impossible was nothing to them.  Besides, we just assume that they were annihilated, but we don't _know _that now, do we?"  Thanatos walked over to the far side of the viewing deck, towards one of the many stairwells leading down.  However, despite the fact that she was the light goddess who visited Castle in the Sky the most, she had never gone down that one (or several others) in her entire existence.  "Like myself, they were born of the Universe, not the Almighty, so different rules apply.  Down this stairwell and a few other ones, lie the treasures of the Harbingers," Thanatos continued.  "They were locked down there, along with the Key Gates, an entrance to the four Forbidden Realms."  He turned back to her, gold and silver flecked blue eyes challenging her.  "Now why would they be locked up?  None of us can open them, nor even use what weapons and powers they did.  So why the security?"

            She couldn't find an answer to that.

            "I find it rather interesting.  Especially since the weapons themselves have disappeared."

            "What?!"  Her pale green eyes widened as she surveyed Thanatos' calm.  "I don't think this has yet connected to your head," she began, speaking slowly as if to a child.  "That is **bad**!"

            "I think, my dear goddess, that depends on the individual to judge.  Now let us get off from this topic.  It is time for young Nuitari to win his match."

            "Nuitari?" Iris repeated dazedly.

            He gave her a charming, but devious grin.  "Yes.  Nuitari.  The prelude has ended.  For the moment, we must be content to hear the next pieces in the great concerto of the Universe.  This is the genesis of a new age, where the long-past Golden Age will reassert itself once more.  But do not worry as of yet.  What called them in the beginning will bring them back in the end."

            "How do you know all this?" she asked, dreading the answer.

            "How do I know?  Just listen to the stars.  Barter some promise to Destiny.  Ask the great mother, the Universe, herself."  He strode over to the balcony, standing beside her to look out the clear window.  "A new guardian will arise.  Ares has given his warning.  Mars is bright tonight."

            Iris slapped him hard across the face.  All Thanatos gave her was an inquiring glance.  It held no anger, no resentment, nor even shock.  Which angered her even more.  To that unspoken question, she answered, "That's for being vague."

            "Well, I can't let _everything_ out of the bag.  Though Moros and I do not get along on many points, we do agree on something."

            "And that is…"

            "This will be most interesting indeed."

            "There is no need to worry, my lady," the demon wheedled in his high-pitched voice.  "Things are going in our favor.  It will not be long until the Dark Gates are opened once more."  It was a pathetic sight to see.  A demon possessing the body of a man, its flesh having been defiled and transformed so that it was now nothing more than a shell of inhuman substance.  Red, catlike eyes held a satisfied glint as the fire flickered in the room's fireplace.  A slim rod of wood, red as crimson blood, was held in the spider-like fingers of the being that called himself Lord Voldemort.

            Creamy silk clothed the woman in the room in attractive drapes and folds, accentuating a beautiful and pleasing figure.  Golden blonde hair poured down her back in liquid waves and combined with pale skin made her look almost angelic.  But she was no angel.  The goddess Pheta had a worried frown gracing her full mouth, lavender eyes narrowed and blonde eyebrows scrunched together in distaste.  "I am not so sure of that.  There are still many things that must be taken care of and many factors that can threaten us."

            "But the goddess of darkness has made no-"

            "Of course she hasn't!  Even I see that would be unwise to do so.  She's waiting for a time for us to weaken so she can strike.  She is dark, and while they are strong, by far their cunning and ingenuity are their most dangerous traits."  She made no noise as she paced, light sandaled feet airily touching the patterned carpet.  "No luck with Harry Potter," she said angrily.  "You don't need to tell me **that**.  I have gotten no leads either, so I doubt you would have heard anything."  Pheta's expression darkened once more and she muttered under her breath, "Thanatos…what was he doing?"  Voldemort, though catching this, decided wisely not to comment.

            With a dramatic swirl of silk as she spun around to face him, the goddess of light inquired, "Have you launched the forces outside of England?"  The silence, tense enough, now grew to the point where a dull knife could easily slice through it like soft butter.  "Well?"

            "We are being opposed from the outside," Voldemort said tightly.

            A low edge pervaded the goddess' golden tone, "By who, pray tell?"

            "A man is gathering the support of the Ministries and other groups," the demon responded readily, but warily.  "He is proving to be a powerful adversary, though I have never seen him before.  They are putting up alarms and conducting raids, even the nations who have a history of hating each other are cooperating."  Voldemort paused for breath before continuing.  "The muggle governments are also interfering, though it is uncertain if they know of the wizarding world.  My spies claim he is the head of a powerful business and very influential in his power.  So far all attempts to kill him have been…"

            "Thwarted?  A mere_ mortal_ managed to escape you?" she sneered.  "No…that isn't it.  You sent one of those inept twits to do it, didn't you?"

            "Not at all!"

            Pheta made a swift cutting motion with a carefully manicured hand, casting a bright unearthly light upon Voldemort.  His red eyes widened in shock before he fell to the ground, writhing and screaming.  Just as easily, she released her spell, leaving the demon gasping and panting on the ground, black scorch marks marring the servant's white skin.  "Don't lie to me," she hissed.  "What is the name of this man?"

            "Mathias Clarimorir.  He even sent me a message via a terrified Death Eater – who was killed for his cowardice, I assure you – that I have not read yet.  He is American-born, though he has many friends in other nations and races."

            Pheta nodded, "A dangerous person."  She snapped her fingers and a large mirror, rimmed with pale ivory and sparkling lapis lazuli, appeared in front of them.  Its glass was clear and glittered in the firelight, but nothing was reflected in its surface, blank and empty. "The Mirror of Truth," she answered tersely for the shocked, but attentive, demon.  "I had managed to take it from Althelion before I…_he_ died.  Shows only the truth, unlike that pitiful Mirror of Erised you mortals invented."  The blonde turned back to the mirror.  "I, Pheta Vaneria, the goddess of light, invoke the magic of truth," she chanted brusquely.  "Show me Mathias Clarimorir!"

            The glass surface glimmered before the image of a man was scene in the mirror.  Pheta gasped in surprise, taking a few surprised steps back.  Voldemort, however, did not see what was so shocking.  A tall young man with well-groomed dark brown hair stared back at him, dressed – in what he noticed with distaste – a muggle suit.  Though he wasn't completely impeccable.  The shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and the tie was loosened around his neck.  He let a snicker escape him.  He looked about twenty.  And that was at the most.  A mere child.

            It was then at that moment, as the thought passed through his bloodthirsty mind, that he noticed it.  The smirk playing upon Mathias' lips displayed his amusement at _something_, as did his eyes.  Strange eyes.  A deep hazel color, though he thought he could detect vague mist green in their depths.  It was like seeing into a pool, they were too deep, too mysterious.  Looking more closely at them, he noticed that he himself was reflected in them.

            He could see them.

            "You know," the man in the mirror said smoothly.  "It's rather rude to spy on people.  I expected much better from such a _'powerful'_ and _'benevolent'_ goddess as yourself."  He then started laughing, mocking mirth permeating through out the sound.

            Just as quickly, the image of the man vanished.  Turning back to his mistress, he saw her pale and shaking, leaning on an overstuffed chair for support.  He had never seen her shaken, much less trembling.  She was a goddess, one whose power was greater than any mortal's.  Why was she so terrified?  "Where…where is the note?"

            "Note?" Voldemort reiterated dumbly.

            "Don't be an idiot!  The note!  Give it to me!"  Frustrated splotches of color replaced the pale white of her cheeks, her fright and shock lending a high shrill to her voice.  Voldemort easily summoned the envelope.  Black paper, unmarked save for a silver filigree design of a feather embossed on the seal.  This seemed to unnerve the lady even more.  She snatched it from him with quick hands and pulled out a smaller packet of paper in the same black color.  Panicky lavender eyes perused the note, eyes widening in fear.

            "What is it, my lady?" he dared to ask.  No, he did not want to know.  He _knew_ that he didn't.  But what choice did he have?

            The lady began to read the short note.  He heard every word crystal and clear, but it burned his ears and caused pain to shoot through his entire being, causing him to collapse to the floor in fierce agony.  _"I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last…I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive forevermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death."_  Words from a holy book.  Demons hated the words of faith and even worse, the books that contained them.  It did not matter which religion it was from.  Whether it was the Bible, the Torah, the Koran, or the Vedas, whichever one, it was poison to his ears and blood.  Promises of faith and guidance from higher powers, pushing for the good of the world.  Venom!

            "From the Book of Revelation," Pheta muttered darkly before casting the note into the flames of the fireplace.  The fire ate the paper quickly and soon it was nothing more than ash.  "That was originally meant to describe the Messiah, who has yet to come again."  He nodded.  There wasn't really much to talk about the Messiah, the supposed savior.  He had come so many times already, in many different forms, but it was man's unyielding fallacy that prevented their true salvation.  That wasn't the point though.  "But he only quoted it to make a point.  I can't believe it."

            Staggering to his feet, he queried, "What does it mean?"

            "That wasn't just _anyone_, Voldemort, and now we have more problems on our hands."

            "Who is he?  You **know **him?!  But he is just a child!  A mortal human no less!"

            She rounded on him angrily.  "He is much more than that!  That was _Darius!_"

            The Harbingers, the black-winged destroyers and those that bestowed the Gift.  There were many before they were punished.  But there were a few whose power was great among even those dark angels.  The most famous ones of which whose names **still** were notorious among the ranks of demons and gods, those who were called the Unforgiven.  Just saying one of their names was thought to bring death to who ever dared uttered it.

            Nuitari, the devouring darkness, the Storm Harbinger.  Megami, the evening sage, the Midnight Harbinger.  Hiroshi, the Veil's slayer, the Star Harbinger.  Falcifer, the dusk blade, the Twilight Harbinger.

            But the most powerful…

            Deep hazel eyes, knowing and mocking.

            He who killed Largar Palodrymne, the great demon lord of the eighth circle, and all his followers and armies in only mere moments.

            Darius, the summoner of shadows, the Apocalypse Harbinger.

            Voldemort felt sick to his stomach.

            All around them were the frenzied crowds of people, cheering and threatening, inspiringly encouraging and duly abrasive in their insults.  The electricity of anticipation and wonderment, combined with the primal urge of the struggle and the fight, almost literally vibrated in the air of the underground stadium.  Intense and heady, it was almost like a heavy perfumed musk that enticed the senses.  It enveloped him relentlessly, the thrill of battle, relaxing his tensed nerves a little bit, yet making him more than conscious of the crowd around him, of the circumstances, of the consequences.

            There was no calling to the ring, for there would only be one match.  Both participants were there, standing in the ring, facing each other, grim determination written on both of their young faces.  Mordecai stood proud, if stiffly, in cerulean blue.  It was near the boy's eye color, and as usual, the teen's light brown hair was spiked up.  He neither smiled nor scowled, merely frowning.  His gaze was not completely on him, but on someone behind him.

            Night was also not looking at his adversary.  His eyes, their gray concealed by warm gray, were focused on the woman sitting at the leader's box.  More specifically, on woman with the pretty face and gray eyes, framed by messy dark brown hair.  His mother.  She hid her emotions well, but he could tell.  She was worried.  He knew that she neither cared if he won or lost.  She had told him so herself.  But she did not want him to get hurt.  Of course, she was aware that he would.  But she still did not wish it.

            Their shirts were the same shade of gray.

            It was time.  The trial had begun.

            The lights were brighter, their blinding intensity lighting up the entire stadium, fueled even more by the crowd's anticipation.  Even the shield was reinforced further, the magic wall giving the impression of impenetrable steel.  For the spectators' sake, it was hoped it would be that way.

            Mirai's voice on the microphone silenced the chaotic atmosphere of the audience "Welcome, everyone!  This is the final match of the Arashi-Tenku Grey Tower Tournament!  It is in this match – this match! – that the next leader of the Arashi-Tenku will be decided!"  Loud and hectic cheering greeted this, bearing down on him like a wave.  He took one last look at Zylle before completely focusing on Mordecai.  _I can't be distracted now…_

            "Final match!  Mordecai Freely vs. Nuitari Hawking!"  The tension was palpable.  "Begin!"

            Mordecai spent no time in striking.  At a speed that surprised him, the water elemental already summoned his sword and moved in for the attack.  Night immediately sidestepped to the right, knowing what was coming.  He was correct and the blue blade missed its mark by a thread's breadth.  It was the typical strategy for defeating a wind elemental.  Decrease the speed, go for the legs.  Not missing a beat, he summoned his own water elemental staff and going for Mordecai's now exposed right side.  Blue metal clashed with equal blue in a spectacular parry.

            Night quickly moved back, faking a retreat, before going forward again.  His opponent was quick to spot the move, but was not fast enough to retreat.  Within moments, his right shoulder was completely encased in solid ice, opalescent in the blinding lights, and Mordecai retreated back a few steps.

            _…Ice is an incredible weapon, Mr. Hawking.  Not only is its impact incredible, but the enemy still feels its cold touch on their skin long afterward.  It is not a power for the weak but for those that can tolerate the frigid crystals of the deep…_

            Pain then wracked the left side of his torso as he felt the boiling hot water blasted at him, stinging.  He grasped his side, using a less powerful form of the ice spell to cool himself.  But that certainly would leave a bad burn.

            It was then that he noticed the enormous amount of water energy Mordecai was now focusing.  He mentally cursed himself.  He was so busy attending to his own injury that he took his attention off his enemy!  And this burn was going to be nothing compared to the damage that this coming attack would bring.  It was the one that took Bran out.  And Night didn't need anyone to tell him that he was in trouble.

            With a large roar of unyielding rushing water, the large wave was summoned with a mere swing of the water sword.  Night saw every bubble, every sparkle, and caught each flash of iridescent rainbow in that glisteningly clear water, eyes wide at the sheer enormity of the water's height, in awe of nature's power.  The wonder of the tsunami's power.  

            Snapping out of his trance-like reverie, he searched his mind for something, anything, to counter the oncoming onslaught.  He dispelled the crystal-topped water staff.  Gazing at the approaching wave, mere seconds away, with a grave resolve, he summoned anew his earth rapier.  The thin blade of green shimmered in the light of the blue flame lamps, hiding the immense and ancient power within.  He brought the sword down to the ground in a swift arc before stabbing it, point first, into the ring's solid stone floor.  The stone yielded like soft butter.

            A loud rumbling.  The ground began to quake.  Keeping a firm hold on the rapier's hilt, Night focused his earth energy into the ground, using the sword as a conduit for his power.  It was difficult.  But even then, he could feel the earth giving in to his magic.

            The stone, in an almost impossible manner, rippled.  Then, stone spires rose from the ground, taller than he was, taller than mountains.  The water crashed against the towers of inexorable earth, a clash of two of the most violent elements, a magnificent manifestation of water and earth in their age old conflict.  Water managed to get pass the literal wall of earth that he had built, but it was only sprays and small streams that reached him.

            _…Never underestimate the power of the earth, my boy.  To many people, it is seen as weak, because it is used mainly for healing.  But it isn't.  It is a nurturer, the Great Mother.  And like a good mother, she always protects her children…_

            Seeing the attack had ceased, he called back the energy and the mountains disappeared back into the ring floor.  The once smooth surface was now cracked and fractured, pools of water sometimes filling the crevasses.  Charging forward, he attacked the still recovering Mordecai, not waiting for the other to regain his second wind yet.  But his adversary was quick to counter, reforming his elemental weapon once more.  Night reached over to his opponent's shoulder, the one encased in ice, but the water elemental slashed his left arm very effectively.

            Scarlet blood stained cool gray to mortal red.

            He struck back, but it was difficult with the pain now throbbing in both his left arm and torso, practically screaming out at him.  However, it was not the urge to run and heal.  No, it was deeper.  It was a strange feeling, one that he felt as if he had known, but only forgotten.  The instinct to fight, to fulfill a deeper cause, to keep going until he was breathing the last breath his body could take.  Déjà vu.  It both scared and exhilarated him.

            There was a lull in the fighting.  Night and Mordecai circled each other, like a pair of two wild wolves waiting for just the strategic moment to attack and make the deciding kill.  Gray eyes never left those of blue and blue never left those of gray.  Each sported injuries, each had shown great displays of elemental prowess.  Deaf ears received the wild cheers of the crowd.  They did not hear the ovations of encouragement, the obscene slurs made towards the both of them in nearly equal amounts.  There was simply no audience to them.  There was only the other and the goal of victory in sight.  The promise of glory, the ideal of the win.

            Seeing Mordecai tensing himself – a certain sign of an eminent attack – Night decided to be the one to attack first.  It wasn't expected and lacked strategy in this case.  But chaos could be a useful technique against the boundaries that order demanded.  It was a strange philosophy:  one that could be interpreted as cunningly brilliant yet also as extraordinarily idiotic.  It all depended on the outcome had been the logical conclusion to this double-sided thinking.

            He dispelled the earth rapier and with a brief flash, the red glaive appeared in his hands, the staff a fiery red, the blade flickering with a orange and golden shine.  Night saw the quirk of Mordecai's mouth.  His adversary apparently thought that he now had the advantage because he was now using fire.  That was hardly the case.

            He went forward in the standard forum, looking much like a novice.  Yes.  Just as he expected him to move.  But that was the point of the whole maneuver.  Mordecai made a horizontal slice.  Damage would have to be taken for this to work.  But if it worked, then it was completely worth it.

            **_…Is it worth it?…_**  The thought unbidden came to his mind, from that strange instinct – strong and passionate – that he now felt inside of him, but it did not hinder his tactic.

            He felt the edge of the water sword cut across his chest, but he was sure that it wouldn't be deep.  There would be blood, but considering what he had planned, it would look like a mere paper cut.  Moving back and jumping up swiftly, he landed on flat of the sword, which he could tell surprised his opponent.  In another quick move, he flipped over Mordecai's right shoulder, flicking his wrist towards the ice that covered it.

            A black speck that had not been there before when he cast the spell, pulsated a bright green.  Then, with a burst of verdant energy, vines exploded, shattering the ice into sharp fragments.  The water elemental gasped in surprise, but it was done yet.  The vines wrapped around him, emerald green leaves and dusky thorns protruding from thick waxy stems.  The tendrils wrapped around Mordecai and he screamed out in pain.  The many thorns produced numerous deep cuts from his body, each of them now ebbing out blood.  As his adversary turned to face him, Night performed three rapid slashes with his glaive, one horizontal, another vertical, and the last diagonally.  As Mordecai staggered back from the impact, all three slashes flashed red before erupting into flame.  The plant also caught flame, spreading the fire.

            _…Fire is an element that is well deserving of its reputation, Night.  It's potential for destruction is immense.  For it consumes everything, its spirit bright and passionate, taking in everything, grandson.  Truly an awesome power…_

            To Night's dismay, Mordecai quickly doused himself in water.  But the damage had been done.  To both of them.  Both boys, young and eyes still shining with the excitement of the present, were panting heavily, sweat beading on their brows, shoulders heaving.  Yet they still remained standing in a fight for leadership in an impartial match to determine the strongest.  Blood was everywhere, staining the fabric of their shirts, tattered from the battle, the tough reliable denim of their jeans.

            Mordecai appeared to have abandoned his usual strategy of waiting once more to make a full-on attack.  Night's eyes widened.  He knew what was coming.  It was another thing that happened to Bran.  As soon as the water sword's blade made contact with the golden fire metal, white steam poured out with a large and whistling hiss.  It was thick and cloudy, obscuring his vision.  Night then felt the force of water hit him directly in the chest, stinging the recent cut, knocking him off his feet.  He yelled out from the sudden pain and dispelled the fire glaive.  It wouldn't help him out in this case.

            Staggering to his feet, holding his chest in pain, Night flipped backwards to avoid another water attack.  This time it came from the side.

            **_…Is it worth it?…_**

            With a flick of his hands, two blades formed, Japanese in style and grace.  The metal, an intricate mix of cloudy purples, grays, and dark blues, glowed with a new intensity.  Letting his wind magic go, he felt it swirl around him.  The comforting zephyrs churned and eddied around him.  The heated white mist was blown gently away by the tornado around him.  Mordecai was revealed to be in front of him, gathering energy into his water sword for one more slash to finish things.  Night knew what was to come.

            _…The wind, Night.  It can't be controlled, no matter how much we try.  It is a free thing.  That is why it is regarded as so powerful.  The randomness, the chaos that it harnesses.  Be free, and let you become the wind and the wind become you…_

            Both youths charged forward, in a rapid display of swords.  They flashed and sparked, so much that it looked as it there were not three blades, but twelve.  Jump slices, parries, slashes, counters, cuts, and spin slashes, the swords clashed in the graceful and terrible dance of death.

            The swords met.  Water energy was countering that of the winds.  It was then that he got an idea.

            Wind.  Fire.  Earth.  Water.  The power of the elements.  Alone they were strong, but together…

            _…The power of the four elements combined is colossal in its strength and magnitude.  If channeled incorrectly, it could bring about unbelievable destruction, Night.  But they are what make us up, what makes up nature, what makes up this planet…_

            **_…Is it worth it?…_**

            Yes.  It was most definitely worth it.

            The wind blades changed.  No longer were they a mix of dark and hazy colors.  In with the nebulous hues were flares of crimson, blooming flashes of lush green, and flowing streams of icy blue.  The edges of the two blades, the four elements together and united, locked against the now feeble power of a lone element.  Night was shaking in its enormity, but remained attentive to what he was doing.  His mind and body were protesting at the amount of energy being channeled.  Nevertheless, he kept on.

            Mordecai pushed all his energy forward towards him.  Night countered by releasing the now mammoth power contained in his swords.

            A terrible energy was released, shaking the entire stadium.  The ring exploded with unbelievable force, shattering the solid, reinforced shield with its force.

            It took a while for the dust to clear.

            When it did, there was a large crater in the center of the ring.  The two boys both were lying on the ground, looking shell-shocked as well as in a lot of pain.  With a moan, Night pushed himself up into a sitting position.  He was breathing heavily, appearing to be as amazed by the result as everyone else.  It seemed as if it took quite a bit of effort for him to stand.  But he did, wobbling on his feet, but still holding his swords, looking far from ready to give in.

            Mordecai had yet to get up. 

            The twelve count started.

            "12…11…10…9…"

            Mordecai's body twitched.  Night groaned.

            "8…7…6…5…"

            The boy lifted himself up, pushing himself, his face contorted with the effort.

            "4…3…2…"

            Mordecai gave him a tired look, one of exhaustion, agony from wounds, and of satisfaction.  It was then that he understood.  Yes.  It was a good fight.  Against a worthwhile opponent.

            The water elemental fell forward, eyes closed, and dust rose from where he collapsed against the ground.

            "1!"

            He didn't move.  He didn't get up.

            "The winner of the tournament and the new Black Dragon is Nuitari Hawking!"

            He did not hear the cheers of the crowd.  In exhaustion after that announcement, he sank to one knee, using his sword to support his panting and bleeding body.

            He had won.

            He was the Black Dragon of the Arashi-Tenku Dragons.

            All he could focus on was the proud smile on his mother's face.

            Every single one of the residents of Grey Tower Town, young and old, elemental and muggle, were gathered together in Aiken-Quincy Park.  Everyone wore symbols of their clan, whether it was by wearing jewelry or shirts with their clan animal or merely baring their left arms to show their tattoos.  Here, in the center star of the park, there was unity between all the clans, despite their differences in views or ideals.  They were united in their elemental magic.  All around, there was a buzz of excitement among the people, who were whispering and gossiping, so much that the air seemed to be filled with them, like the rustle of thousands of papers.

            To the side of all this, stood all those who had competed in the tournaments, those who had lost and those who had achieved the coveted victory.  All wore the same kind of shirts, except the left arm of the garments had been torn off to reveal each individual's tattoo.  As of the moment, the marks were identical, a gray outline of their clan animal.

            However, in the crowd of young people, there were those that wore shirts of different colors.  Silky black and misty silver, deep blue and brassy copper, scarlet red and shining gold, along with emerald green and pure white.  These stood out apart from all the rest, striking in the sea of elemental teenagers.  

            Aldric Barron once more took the stage and the crowd soon quieted in anticipation.  "Well, my friends and neighbors," the well-built man boomed out above the mob.  "What did you think of the tournament?"  Cheers and whistles greeted this simple question, some of the louder people managing to cheer out a few names in the din.  Barron simply laughed.  "I see you all enjoyed it.  Well, I'm happy to say that four young people in each of our clans have proven themselves to rise above all the others and will become our new leaders."  More cheering and whooping sounded from the audience.  "Like tradition mandates, the four current leaders of each of the clans will initiate these chosen youngsters and formally give them their titles.  We will now begin the ceremony.  We will first begin with the Rekka-Ki Chimeras."

            Everyone clapped as the four leaders of the Rekka-Ki took the forefront of the stage:  Mercedes Rodriguez, Jeanne Flynn, Ivan Peterson, and David Crowley.  Crowley, being the Black Chimera, spoke to the crowd, though Night, standing among the others in black and silver had to repress a snarl when the blonde man made a suggestive leer towards Zylle as he passed.  Pushing this aside, he noticed that in particular, Mercedes seemed very pleased.  "As we all know, this is a special time for the Rekka-Ki, for all clans.  We in this clan have suffered hardship, humiliation," Night could feel Mordecai stiffen beside him.  "And many other conflicts.  However, this is the chance for a new start, with the new leaders of this generation."  There was applause and cheering.  "So, I will present them to you.  Please hold your applause until all those chosen have come up.  Given the title of Green Chimera, Atalanta Morrison."  A wind elemental with dirty blonde hair and the look of a runner, donning green, took the stage to stand in the designated place in front of Mercedes, facing away from the spectators.  "Red Chimera, Niles Flynn."  Next, an auburn hair boy wearing red stood in front of Jeanne.  Though he took his time doing so, waving at the crowd and bowing, causing the audience to laugh.  A real joker.  They were obviously related and both were water elementals.  "Blue Chimera, Genji Mitsurugi."  The Japanese boy who worked as a chef at the Canteen also went up, standing in front of the stoic Ivan, though not seeming nervous at all.  "And Black Chimera, Esperanza Rodriguez!"  The pretty dark-haired girl passed him on her way up the stage, causing him to blush as she winked at him.  _That's why Mercedes is so happy._  Esperanza stood in front of Crowley, straight-backed and proud.

            "And we present the new leaders of the Rekka-Ki!"  As soon as Crowley said this, the blank tattoo marks immediately became colored to their stations.  The four turned around to face the cheering crowd, though now they looked slightly nervous.  The four current leaders went back to their place among the others, while the four teenagers walked off the stage, amid congratulations and best wishes.

            Once the crowd settled, the next group of leaders took the stage.  It was obvious which clan.  Sabrina Gordon was an internationally known A-list actress.  _Definitely the Tigers_.  She, as well as Rosalinda Rivera and Kareem Hussein, all followed the rather intimidating form of Nicodemus Alberts, though Night knew that the man was very kind despite his appearance.  The crowd clapped again before settling down.  "Hello, everyone.  It has come again to this joyous time, where we choose which of our youngsters, who we have trained and schooled in the ways of the Grey Tower elemental clans, will lead their generations as we lead now.  Most of us know from experience of how difficult these fights are and it cannot be denied that we have an exceptionally gifted group.  But I know you really don't want to hear me, so let's get on with it."  There was a murmur of chuckles at this.  "Hold your applause until the end, please.  Green Tiger, Chandra Akbar."  There was a murmur in the crowd at the sound of the Indian girl's name, but she took it in stride and stood in front of Kareem Hussein, as if it were nothing.

            "Hey, Bran.  What's with this one?"

            Bran, who really didn't have to try to look over everyone else because he had the normal height of a fifteen-year old (unlike Night), whispered back, "She must be related to Vashti Akbar.  Vashti was the one who lead the Tigers in the Phantom Wars, but she moved back to India afterward."  Night nodded in understanding.

            "Red Tiger, Muhammed Hussein."  A swarthy young man took his place in front of Sabrina Gordon, blushing slightly, but returning the smile that Kareem, his father gave him.  "Blue Tiger, Alexander al-Shahid."  Like Chandra, there were whispers and murmurs in the crowd as another teenager, who also appeared to be from the Middle East, took his place in front of Rosalinda.

            Night didn't need to wait for Bran to explain.  "This is really odd.  _Both_ an Akbar and an al-Shahid.  Ramses al-Shahid was the Blue Tiger in the Phantom Wars.  He moved out of the country after the wars, too.  To Arabia."  The dark-haired boy was inclined to agree.  This was odd.

            "And for Black Tiger, Magía Rivera."  When the Spanish girl stood in front of Nicodemus, he could see the smile on his face.  It was very obvious, since Magía was his cousin.  "I give you the new leaders of the Seijaku-Shinrin Tigers."  The tattoos were colored, much the same as last time, and the crowd cheered once more.

            He winced and began to play close attention when the next group of leaders took the stage.  One just did not **ignore** Holly McGonagall-Dorran of the Eikou-Taiyou.  She began tersely and to the point, "I will not deliver some fancy opening speech because I seemingly lack the speaking charisma of Aldric."  Laughter.  "What I have to say is not important to begin with.  We all want to know who was chosen.  Green Unicorn, Adam Edwards."  Night recognized this boy.  He was giving out fortunes in the park a few weeks ago.  Though he was mildly surprised, since Adam (now standing in front of Amity Rouge) came from a gypsy family that had moved out of town two weeks ago.  Zylle said they would return later in the year, but he was still surprised.  Who was Adam staying with then?  "Red Dragon, Amberly Rouge-Kalter."  A girl with short bright red hair took the stage with a wide smile on her face, earning an amused grin from Aldric Barron.  "Blue Unicorn, Olivia Jamison."  A pale girl with violent electric blue hair and heavy black eyeliner slouched up the stage to stand in front of Serena Arlen.  "And Black Unicorn, Julian Wavers."  The African boy ran up the stage to Holly, while giving a thumbs-up to Aldric Barron as he passed.  "These are the new leaders of the Eikou-Taiyou Unicorns."  The crowd cheered again as the tattoos became colored.

            "One more," muttered Trina impatiently.

            "Why are we last?" Night asked.

            "I don't know, but it sucks I'll give you that."

            The leaders of the Kiri-Kaminari took the stage and Night couldn't suppress a smile when Dr. Anastasius "Annie" Diamante was among them.  Katharine Langley, another severe-looking woman and the Black Falcon, spoke.  "I know it may seem odd to you that we, the Falcons, have strong fighters.  After all, we largely concentrate on the healing of wounds rather than making them.  But we do have fighters and worthy individuals to lead us.  Hold your applause, et cetera, et cetera.  Green Falcon, Angela Morgan."  A girl with light brown hair went up to stand in front of Sylvester Morrel.  "Red Falcon, Violet Tennebaum."  The quiet girl who was with Esperanza at the duel he witnessed at Grey Tower High went up, standing in front of Lily Tennebaum.  They were related, obviously, but how, he didn't know.  The Tennebaum family was very large, consisting of at least seven families.  Night was slightly surprised at this, as she didn't look like much of a fighter.  "Blue Falcon, Mirabelle Diamante."  A wide smile lit up Night's face as he saw the curly-haired blonde go up to stand in front of her beaming father.  _Another Diamante is a Blue Falcon…_ "Black Falcon, Victor Lerani."  The boy that was dueling Julian in that duel (was it so long ago?) went up with a judicial dignity to proudly stand before Katharine Langley.  "Here are the new leaders of the Kiri-Kaminari Falcons."  Night could barely hear the applause.  It was their turn now.

            Sure enough, everyone was silenced as Zylle went up to speak.  His mother had that sort of effect on people.  Behind her followed Professor Coulter, Mirai, and Jonathan.  "Hello, everyone," she greeted.  "This has been quite an exciting tournament this year.  We saw our children train to the best of their ability, even though circumstances led to the tournament being held earlier and not in October as is traditional.  However, they had done their best and I'd like to congratulate them."  Cheering and whooping from the audience.  "Thank you.  It is important to remember that even though there are those who did not win the status of leader, they are still important to the clan and to the community.  Dark times are coming.  We cannot deny this.  We are not like the muggles, who do not know of magic, nor like the wizards, who only see their false peace.  As long as the clans remain united, inside them and between them, we will survive this once more."  Deathly quiet followed this small speech, though after a few moments people began to clap.  Night could see in the eyes of the some of the older residents, including Gran and Hans, that they knew **exactly** what she meant.  "But enough of that.  I will now announce the new leaders of the Arashi-Tenku.  For the title of Green Dragon, Triana Smythe."  Trina froze for a moment, but a not so gentle push from both Bran and himself got her going to the stage, where she stood in front of her father.  "Red Dragon, Bran Ravencroft."  Bran nodded in acknowledgement to him and Mordecai before going up to stand in front of Mirai.  "Blue Dragon, Mordecai Freely."  Like what happened before with Chandra and Alexander, whispers started to filter through the crowd.  Nevertheless, Mordecai went up to proudly stand in front of the icily composed Professor Coulter.  "And Black Dragon…" Everyone quieted, so much that a bird on the far side of the park could be heard clearly.  "Nuitari Hawking."

            The crowd erupted into a roar.  He made his way, blush tingeing his cheeks to stand in front of his mother, accepting the happy grins of his friends, the thumbs-up from Mirai, and the proud smiles of both Professor Coulter and Zylle.  In the audience, above the clamor, he could hear two loud shouts of, "SEE?!  WE HAWKINGS RULE!  THAT'S MY GRANDSON!" and "I KNEW HE WOULD WIN!  WOO!  THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND'S GRANDSON!  I RULE!  LYSANDER, YOU OWE ME 200 POUNDS!"  Among the other leaders, he saw them cheering just the same.  "I give you the new leaders of Arashi-Tenku Dragons," Zylle proclaimed over the chaos, which only got louder.  He watched with slight shock as the tattoo, which he was so used to seeing as a gray outline, became black and silver.

            As one, the other chosen leaders also went up on the stage, hugging and congratulating each other.  And he was slightly embarrassed as both Esperanza and Mirabelle kissed him on the cheek, which prompted huge smirks on Bran and Mordecai's faces.  They all stood there, the future of the clans, in one mass huddle of confusion.

            A slight flash of silver caught his eye.  In the far back of the crowd, stood a group of people apart from the rest.  A large grin lighting up his face, he waved to them, though this was not too unusual as the others were doing the same.  But no one saw these strangers.  He saw the Dark Lady, her face full of delight and happiness, and beside her on her left, a man with a cheerful face and jovial eyes, who was making as much noise as Gran and Hans (even if no one could hear him).  On her right was a grinning Tom.  He was there, though it was as if looking through a hazy window, but Night was happy that he was there as well.  And there were others.  A regal woman with white hair and brown eyes in a white kimono with a smirk playing on her face stood near Moros, the god of trickery, who looked much like a satisfied cat (and Night would know).  Close to the man on the Lady's left (who he could assume was the infamous "Uncle Nat"), was another woman with short white hair, though she had blue eyes that were twinkling madly with mischief and mirth.  Two men, with identical pale features and dark hair, stood by that woman and he could tell they meant him no harm, even though he felt a shiver of fear run through him as soon as he saw them.  In between them was a dark-haired woman in a flowered sundress, looking extremely out of place in the group of dark gods.  He blinked when another man joined them, identical to "Uncle Nat", though much more serious looking.  And behind them all stood the Lady Nyx, as mysterious as ever, smiling contentedly.  He saw with slight shock that a man, older looking than the others, had his arm around her waist, with the blue eyes and dark hair.  This one smiled enigmatically back and he knew that this was Lady Nyx's husband, the father of all the others.

            Two other women stood next to the patriarch of the dark gods, looking a great deal like him, even more so than his children.  One was a woman with green eyes the color of jade, holding mysticism and dignity.  Her dark robes were dark blue in some places and her pale white hands clasped the stems of strange herbs that he was sure did not grow on Earth.  She did not smile, but nodded approval.  The other woman he realized he knew.  The old woman with the hazel eyes who told him to meet Lady Nyx…they were the same.  But here she was young, her dark hair cut short in a tomboyish fashion, those eyes holding happiness and yet a undeniable inevitability.  He could have sworn that the runes on the gold bangles that hung from her ears and worn around her wrists were glowing.

            He was officially part of the clan and his family, the ones in Grey Tower and those that watched from other realms, were there, happy for him.  He wasn't alone and he had the feeling that he would never be again.

            This had to be the happiest day in his life.  Even if he had no idea what happened before he had come to Grey Tower, half-dead with amnesia, he still held onto this thought with certainty.

            Change.

            Change is the eternal paradox of the world we had created.  But it was a necessary edict.  For if change did not occur, then things would be the same as they had always been.  Of course, some might argue that the past was much better than the now.  But how did those civilizations of old advance so much?  If they had not changed, would they have not just stayed in their lowly primitive state of mind? Unthinking and uncomprehending, they being ignorant of the beauty of life?  That is preposterous and impossible.  Change is a needed thing.

            And I have come to the battleground once more.  I left out of, and I admit it, cowardice.  I could not deal with everything.  I felt that the failure of Krynn was my fault.  But it was not my fault at all.  I was merely blaming myself because I had made just one mistake.  And instead of fixing it, I just ran away.  I was afraid of my own faults!  The qualities that make up my being, that make me who I am, I was afraid of them.  The sheer basis of the Gift!  How young I was!  But things change.  I see what happened.  And there is a solution.  And I intend to be a part of it.  So I have come back to Earth.  I remember it only vaguely, but it certainly wasn't like this when I left.  There are many more people and technology reigns supreme over magic.  This was something I was not used to.  But I could hear the wind.  It was crying.  And its goddess would not heed its plea, being blinded by the false light.

            But where are my Harbingers?

            The wind told me of my children.  Destiny is playing her games, the cards shuffled and ready to be dealt.  Hecate, the witch goddess, is preparing for the arrival of the demon armies.  It does not matter.  For though the demons are strong, the Maleficus are the ones that are our true enemies.  Erebus is now ruler of Tartarus, forced to watch and judge those wicked individuals that bring no goodness to life.  Nyx is still by his side and has born him many children.  So many…and a great deal of descendants!  The wind said that was in the past, however.  But I sense only three so far.  It is funny.  Through their blood, containing the dark of the immortals, they are connected to me as well.  The creator of the dark gods, the mediator of the Great Triumvirate, the Universe.

            However, things change.

            But where are my Harbingers?  Those I gave the wings to fly and the power to bring destruction and rebirth?  I have heard nothing of them and their absence was of great worry to me.  I couldn't find them at all.  But it isn't possible that they could be destroyed.  Only I can destroy them.  But where are they?  I have searched the planet.

            And then I figured it out.

            These human beings, the animals, the plants.  They were alive.  Not in the biological sense, but on the spiritual level.  They thought, they chose their path, they created, they destroyed, and they grew.  It wasn't perfect, but there was choice.  Earth was created during the time when choice was not an option, the period of bedlam that followed the separation of the Three.  Organisms then were only weapons, pawns that could easily be discarded in a senseless war.

            The Gift.

            My Harbingers.  Why did you sacrifice yourselves?

            Things change.

            After that revelation, I found him.  One of my favorites, Darius, was there in the world.  We spoke over that thing they called the 'telephone'.  He had saw me when I was walking through a city aimlessly, when I was looking for anything – anything at all – from the past that I could grasp.  He called it 'New York'.  I did not particularly care about that detail.  He said it was as if he had woken up again and that his old memories were returning, both good and bad.  The joy of flight, the grim spattering of blood in the divine judgments, the Gift, the pain of the Verdict, everything he remembered with what he called 'an apathetic clarity and realization'.  It was easy for him to break into Castle in the Sky and take back his weapons.  He felt his old power and was already making moves against the enemy.  Albeit, they were subtle, but they were there.

            I looked up as the bell on the door rang.  I sighed, I had only come to see how those who channeled the power of the elements were doing, disguising myself as the elemental who gave the eye marks.  Instead, I was plagued by hundreds of them, in droves, coming in for them, asking for interpretations and meanings.  The sheer irony of it all.  And that bell!  It was a horrid thing; it's ringing harsh and unmelodic.  In walked in a woman with long messy dark hair, pulled futilely in an attempted braid, and striking gray eyes.  I could tell by just looking at her that she had some contact with Althelion, the god of truth.  Which puzzled me.  How could a mortal woman – who did have quite a bit of power – come into contact with a dead god?  It would have to be looked into.  Behind her followed a boy.  No a teenager.  But he was too small for his age.  He was growing, however.  A late bloomer then.  His dark hair was equally as unkempt, but I had to suppress a smile.  Stardust was streaked in his hair, the gold and silver familiar sights to me.

            It was easy to tell.  This young man was one of the three I had sensed.  The features of Erebus and Nyx still showed in his young face.  Most characteristics of gods tend to do that, no matter how many generations passed.  He carried the same grace as the woman, although she was not his mother.  In the biological sense at any rate.  Yes, I can tell these things.  It is very clear to one who has experience.  He was talking happily with her and she with him.

            But things change.  And I have the feeling that change would be coming for these two as well.

            They wouldn't suspect a thing.  After all, I looked like a woman in her late thirties, with pale blond hair and seemingly golden eyes.  But they wouldn't notice.  I had made sure that I wouldn't seem out of the ordinary.  Magic was a wonderful thing.  It was a great pity that not everyone could use it like they had in the old days.  The variety!  The beauty!  Alas, all gone, dust in the wind.  But now was not the time to reminisce.

            "Hello, miss," I knew instinctively that she was not married.  She was of the wind's magic, not readily or easily tamed.  "Young man," I nodded to the black-haired youth.  "I assume you have come to get your eye mark?"

            "Yes," he replied politely and thankfully already was informed of the procedure.  Already, he rolled the sleeve of his shirt up to expose the skin of his left arm.  There, powerful and majestic in its ferocity and glory, was the tattoo of the Dragon of Stormy Skies.  It was not a new sight, but unlike the usual purple and gray I had been getting, he was one of the few that had theirs in a different color.  A deep black, like inky night, outlined and accented in silver.  He was a leader, then.  How utterly unsurprising.

            The woman stood to the side, gazing at the pictures on the wall of past fighters and eye marks.  I don't know why the woman who was **really** the eye-mark giver kept those, but she did.  Nostalgia, probably.  Meanwhile, I sat the boy on a chair and placed my right hand over the tattoo, where the dragon's claws seemed to be holding something that wasn't there.  I noticed that he tensed as he did so, the power gathering in my hand pulsating in the gold colored magic I was known for.  "Don't worry so much, child," I tried to reassure.  "It only takes a few seconds."

            Already, it was forming and I took the time to feel the boy's magic.  Strong, this one was…quite so.  But what was this?  There was a block of black magic against his mind.  Powerful magic, though it was obvious it was being attacked by _something_.  It carried the signature of Melania Amarna, a young goddess that I remember little of.  He must be one of her descendants.  It was holding back something and I did not need to pass the barrier to know that it was memories, terrible ones of utter cruelty inflicted.  The bitter laughter of Maleficus echoed in my ears, causing me to wince.  May the evil angels receive their comeuppance and rot in the tortures of the hellish Tartarus.

            And there was something else that was being blocked.  Not in the mind, but in the soul.  That in itself was odd.  Souls were never like that, the ritual that bestowed the Gift assured this.  Darius had told me so himself.  Unless this child was one himself…

            Green emerald eyes.

            I smiled.

            I lifted my hand.  There, fully clasped in the dragon's talons, was the rune.  The term "eye mark" was largely used because of the rune's complicated design, the dots and strokes seeming to form the look of an eye.  In each part of the mark was an identifying characteristic, unique to each individual.  This one carried a dark fluidity and grace, with angles and curves completely complementing themselves and the accented circles and dots.  It was golden colored, like my magic, and it was at that moment and by identifying the rune that my assumption was correct.  The woman had already come forward and was examining the rune herself along with the boy.  

            I knew what he was going to ask before he opened his mouth.  "A very unique one, I must say.  I believe it reads, 'Storm Harbinger's Eye'."  What little conversation was discussed between us in the next few minutes was not important.  They soon left, the boy's mother mentioning visiting some place called 'The Canteen'.

            How appropriate that he of all would inherit that mark.  But why had he not awakened right there, as Darius had?

            I would discuss this later with my friends.  If we were able to forgive each other for past mistakes, that is.

            Looking out of the store window, I watched Nuitari walk away into the sprawl of human civilization.

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            There was a young man leaning against a lamppost on the corner, an orange halo of light around his head from the bulb's glow.  But I knew that was no _ordinary_ young man.  No.  He may look like a run-of-the-mill teenager with his light brown hair and ripped jeans paired with an oversized t-shirt.  I knew better though.  And it was confirmed when he looked at me.  His eyes were bright red.  It was he.

            "Were you waiting for me, Chaos?" I asked and I felt a grin forming on my face.  Some things just never change.

            "But, of course," he replied just as gaily as I had remembered.  Back in the old days, when there were no quarrels between the three of us.  Just a bond of strong friendship and trust, there was just a balance of the three. There were good times then.  But, alas, things change.  Now, when I look back, I wonder how it could have all happened.  How could one argument could have separated and divided us, even pushing us to war?

            "I am assuming we are just waiting for him, then?"

            "It appears to be that way.  Which we should have expected, considering all that has happened in these long millenniums.  They probably think they cannot live without his guidance."  He laughed that cynical laugh I knew so well.  "I wonder how he's going to get away from them!  What, tell them he's meeting with the two other deities of the Great Trinity?"

            We both turned around expectantly.  And there he was.  "I didn't quite say that," he replied, clear bright blue eyes twinkling.  He was dark-skinned, like those who were descended from the southern continent of Africa, and wore a suit.  How typical of him!  Of course, he would want to be the one out of all of us to look the most mature.  But he cannot hide it.  He is tired and stressed.  The burdens of everyone put on his shoulders solely.  A truly heavy yoke to pull, surely it had to be.  "I merely demanded that I take a break.  But it is good to see you again, Universe, after so many years."  Chaos made a loud whistling noise.  He could never live without having some attention on him.  "Yes, I've even missed you, Chaos."

            "Good to know!" he returned.  "All is forgiven?"

            I nodded before saying, "All is forgiven."

            "All is forgiven," the Almighty repeated.

            We all clasped our hands, the three of us, renewing our pact.  Once more I felt the sense of right, the belonging.  Wandering along the edges of reality, I've missed that perception, that acuity of true power and wisdom.  There was a brief power ripple as we had done so and even now I could hear the screams of the Maleficus.  We were a team again.  And all of creation, since the Genesis, was rejoicing with us.

            "Shall we go and plan?" I offered.

            The Almighty nodded in his agreement.  "Of course!  We have much to talk about.  Our experiences and powers.  Not to mention how to deal with that little menace."

            "I do know a good restaurant not too far away," Chaos suggested.  "We could go there.  I swear, the food is so good, it's like tasting **sin**."

            We paused to look at each other before simultaneously bursting out laughing.

            Our camaraderie was renewed once more.

            The world…it is changing.

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Thanks for waiting people!  I had been hoping to get this out by last weekend, when I had my Winter Break, but I was largely busy, so I only got a few parts of the chapter done.  So, here's **twenty-one **pages of Elemental Genesis for you!

I'll try to get started on the next chapters very quickly so there isn't so much of a wait.  Expect another delayed update though.  I got handed three more assignments as I just completed one.  They must be trying to kill me.  For details, see my profile, it's been updated accordingly to the new projects I now have.

I'll update Dark Reflections soon, if anyone is following that story as well.  In that, Maia meets up with Theo again and Harry is featured on the train ride to Hogwarts, as well as Blaise Zabini, the tall blue-haired weirdo with a thousand conspiracy theories.  Draco is there as well!

Only one more chapter left before I'll move onto the sequel!  Thanks for reading and please review.

~Raven Dragonclaw

**Note:  A few people have been sending e-mails to me via my MSN address, containing attachments.  However, I have not been able to read them because my computer views them as 'unsafe'.  So, if anyone has e-mailed me with messages that have attachments and is expecting a reply, this is a heads up.**

In this chapter:  The Black Dragon 

· Melania, Tom, and the elemental gods.

· Another conversation between Hedwig {White Owl} and Shadow {Kardis}.

· Harry's family and friends give him encouragement before the final match.

· Three intrepid wizards decide to try to enter Grey Tower (Sirius, Remus, and Severus).  Unfortunately for them, they run into Ate and are thrown _way_ off track.

· Thanatos and Iris at the Castle in the Sky.

· Voldemort's growing confidence and the return of Darius.

· Nuitari Hawking vs. Mordecai Freely for the title of Black Dragon

· The Black Dragon, and the other leaders of the clans are introduced and formally given their titles.

· Harry receives his eye mark (for reference: see the end of Chapter 9 where Mirabelle and Harry talk.).  The Triumvirate is formed once more, as told by the Universe. 

_In the next and final chapter:  "_The Shards of the Immortals"

            **Last chapter of Elemental Genesis!  And I'll leave you guys in suspense for this one!  Then, on to Elemental Prophecies.  By the way, an appendix will be added so that you would be able to tell who's who in the clans as well.  If you want any additional information other than names to be included, please tell me in a review or e-mail.**


	34. The Shards of the Immortals

**VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE BELOW!**

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Disclaimer:  Nothing belongs to me except plotlines, clans and their members, and Grey Tower along with any characters that you don't recognize.

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Chapter Thirty-Four:  The Shards of the Immortals

            Several silver ornaments that decorated the room shattered on their own accord.  This, of course, alarmed him enough.  But the flames that now reduced several tapestries and quite a few portrait frames definitely put him on edge.  They weren't the red and yellow that normally burned.  No, these were blue and white, intense in their heat and destruction.  None of his spells, no matter how strong, could extinguish them.  The water merely turned to steam and the foam vaporized as if it were nothing.  It took him a moment to calm the person who had caused such calamity in his office so that the fire would not burn everything in its ravenous wake.

            "I don't believe it is your fault, Sirius."

            "Of course it's my fault!  That woman – goddess, rather - distracted us this time.  I already lost the woman who has him and there was that other time where he was right on the street in front of me!  I should have protected him from that fat uncle of his to begin with!"

            The atmosphere in the normally cheerful headmaster's office was fraught with tension and guilt.  Most of this seemed to come from the man in scarlet red robes, hunched forward, elbows propping up his upper body, with his head in his hands in a sad pathetic fashion.  When he lifted up his face to look at Albus Dumbledore, his light blue eyes were haunted with the memory of a painful past and agonies of the present, making him seem older than he was.  Though Albus Dumbledore was inclined to believe that those eyes were more ancient than even his could ever be.  The clarity of the blue, burdened with the recollections of times good and bad, had the same quality of those that had watched for thousands of years on end.

            It was quite clear to the old headmaster now that Sirius Black was truly a descendant of a god.  The dark that had surrounded his life since his youth, his animagus form, the eyes, they were all connected to the deity that appeared not too long ago in his office.  Thanatos, Death, or Nathaniel Black – the god had left a lasting legacy on this Earth in many more ways than one.  He would admit easily that the god had unnerved him.  For he knew, underneath that exterior of candor, there was a dangerous and capricious individual.  Though he was certain that the young man before him would never admit it, he and his ancestor were chillingly alike in personality.  

            "We cannot prevent what happened in the past," he tried to console.  "You have no idea what is going on.  I don't as well."  The headmaster leaned back in his chair, looking more ancient as his blue eyes did not twinkle behind his spectacles, the lines on his face appearing deeper and more worn.  "Higher powers are involved, so much that we are merely just puppets in their plan.  All we can do at the moment is to accept what reliable facts we have now and try to make sense of this mess."

            Sirius sighed, his face looking conflicted with emotions.  Anger and denial were the most noticeable of the blend, combined with an unwilling stubbornness.  It was a face that Dumbledore knew well.  He had seen it before many times in the past.  And now, more than ever, did the burden of the world upon his shoulders feel heavy as lead.  It would take a lot of persuasion to convince him of this plan.  But as of the moment, it was the best that they had so far.

            "I have an idea of how to get Harry out of wherever it is."  As expected, gratitude and hope washed away the previous morose expressions, and a smile began to pull at Sirius' lips.  It was this part that would be difficult to say.  "However, we would have to wait."

            "Wait?!"  The scarlet-clad man rose to his feet abruptly, all traces of happiness vanished and replaced by impatience and fury.  "We can't wait!  Who knows what is happening to Harry?  For all we know, he could be in pain!"

            Dumbledore sighed, exasperation and the pronounced accuracy of which he predicted Sirius' actions apparent in his manner.  "From what you have said before of how you last saw Harry, it seems unlikely that is the case."

            Sirius looked at the headmaster in disbelief before sputtering in heated annoyance.  Where was reason in this generation?  Where was peace?  Would there ever be a time where the threat of a dominating evil never try to encompass and destroy the world he tried so hard to protect.  In his youth, there was Relausyn, who annihilated a majority of the pureblood families and killed many of his siblings.  In his adulthood, there was Grindelwald, whose operation for take-over – now that he reflected on it – seemed to be much larger than it appeared to be at the time.  And now, there was Voldemort, a pure menace.  He would never admit it, but it was Voldemort that affected him most.  The memory of a dark-haired boy, brilliant in his thought and study, turning into a monster, and how he had failed to prevent it from happening.

            "Well, if they aren't hurting him, they could be brainwashing him against us," the Auror argued back.  "I called him repeatedly last time and he didn't respond _once_.  If they have affected him this much now, imagine how much if we wait.  It's been a month already!  I want my godson back and safe!" 

            "If we wait, Sirius," he continued, "we maybe able to draw them into a sense of false security.  When they least expect it, we will take back Harry.  A month in the very least."  Sirius sat down, but the rage was still visible in those eyes, the blue eyes that transcended time and blood.  Idly, Dumbledore's eyes traveled to a portrait hanging on the wall.  Sirius' eyes did as well.  "We will have to trust in Pheta that nothing will happen to Harry while we wait."

            Sirius did not reply at first, merely glaring at the portrait as its occupant had done him some great wrong.  After a moment, he spoke, but the cold animosity that underlay the words, shocked him.  "Pheta can rot in hell.  She has done nothing and I doubt she even cares that we even trust in her or not.  She let go of James and now Harry.  I don't see how I can trust a goddess like that."  He paused, still glowering fiercely at the portrait.  "I've always hated that portrait.  I don't know why, but I never liked _her_.  All I know is that…I hate her."

            A woman of dazzling beauty smiled down on them from the canvas.  It was one of few pictures that did not move in the entire castle.  Her blonde hair gleamed like bright sunlight, framing a flawless face with a perfect prim nose, those attractive lavender eyes, and pink lips.  Her pale skin combined with those ethereal features and the golden-colored robes made her seem angelic.  The plaque beneath the portrait, in gold and red, proclaimed her identity with flourish.  _Phillandra Pheta Gryffindor._

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            Charms used to be a favorite class for most people.  The exuberant and easy-going nature of the professor that taught the lessons created an atmosphere of relaxation and enjoyment.  It was here that they were able to try and try again, until they were victorious in casting a charm, the most widely used genre of magic in wizardry.  There was no pressure at all and the work was largely easy anyway.  To pass satisfactorily, not a lot of effort was actually needed to be put into the work at all.

            This year, things were different.  Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts now replaced Transfiguration and Potions as the classes you had to work hard to at least scrape the failing mark.  Dusty sunlight still shone through the windows, the wooden desks were still a flawless walnut, the stones a typical cool gray, the students still cast their spells and spoke to each other, but the ambiance was a stark contrast as to the years before.  Right now, it wasn't a trouble-free time to fine-tune magic.  This was work, hard and necessary.  The students spoke in whispers, only speaking when they needed to, practicing the spells that their professor had just given notes on and demonstrated.  If not, they were leaning over parchment, their quills scratching words hastily onto the paper, only lifting to refill the ink on their tips, to resume once more in the task of completing an essay.  It was not only the students that would face end-of-the-year testing that were being pushed to their limits, it was the entire student body.  Granted, the students' aptitude at charms was growing at an exponential rate, but that didn't necessarily mean that they had to like it.  The same went for the teacher that happened to teach the subject now as well.

            Professor Wyvern Irving was sitting at the teacher's desk, ready to dispel any help if needed.  Not that the students were jumping up in excitement to ask.  In just a short amount of time, he became one of the most disliked teachers at all of Hogwarts.  The man with the lanky light brown hair suppressed a smirk.  He expected as much in the first place and many of the students had already correctly tagged him as one of the Slytherin alumni.  Personally, he did not care what the students thought.  In his opinion of opinions, you needed to be challenged to progress.  Sure, it was nice to have it easy, but that didn't necessarily get you ahead in life.  

            And it wasn't as if the school could complain.  The charms skills and grades of all the years had risen dramatically in just a few days.  At first he was going to be strict but nice, much like McGonagall, but once he took a look at how they handled their class time and their disgraceful answers to his questions, he revised his entire syllabus to bring them up to par.  Their abilities and essays were still sub-standard in his opinion, but there was nothing a bit of hard work and discipline couldn't take care of.

            There were a few students that stood out from the rest in terms of skill.  Hermione Granger, of course, being one.  However, Ron Weasley was also doing very well, as well as – surprisingly – Neville Longbottom.  In Hufflepuff, there was Susan Bones and Ravenclaw had Terry Boot.  Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott were the outstanding achievers of Slytherin.  The exchange students were also exceptional.  The rest, however, needed work.  The young man, an eye-patch obscuring one utterly useless and dead eye, scowled before speaking, interrupting the soft chatter of the class.  It was the only way to stop them from doing it _again_.  "Ms. Brown and Ms. Patil!"  The heads of the two girls shot up immediately and the room stilled as all turned their attention to the professor in navy blue robes.  "I believe that this is Charms, **not** Divination.  Therefore, you **will not** be looking at star charts, making predictions, or doing other things pertaining to such an imprecise subject.  Do I make myself clear?"

            Lavender Brown opened her mouth to retort, Parvati Patil also moving to speak, but Wyvern interceded before they could speak.  "I don't care what you have to say.  You could get permission from that fake seer for all I care."  Some of the class tittered.  "While you are in Charms class, you will work on charms.  **Is that understood?**"  His voice carried a commanding and authoritative edge to it, one that could not be denied.  The two girls nodded glumly, accepting, putting their star charts away and turning back to their neglected work.

            He hated being forced to use his magic.  But, as his old master used to say, it was sometimes necessary.  He wasn't however going to reveal that he knew that magic though, or the other kind he learned.  Both the Order and the Death Eaters alike would target him.  No, it was better to appear normal and stay neutral.  A sharp brown eye surveyed the class.  It focused on each of the Gryffindor fifth years, moving from one to the other.

            He suppressed a sigh of frustration.  These children were for the most part utterly unremarkable.  He saw in their souls their past identities, their past deeds, all imprinted for eternity.  Nearly all of them exceedingly ordinary, such as Finnegan being a farmer, Brown used to be a dissatisfied housewife, etc.  Granger apparently was an Archivist at Camelot, which was new.  Neville Longbottom was muggle herbologist and healer.  Though there was a strange green aura around the boy, unseen to the normal eye.  It wasn't very strong, a weak pale green, but it was noteworthy enough, and was being restrained by a purple aura.

            Then there was Ron Weasley.  The red-haired youth was now speaking quietly to Granger.  He couldn't figure out, but he knew this:  whatever power that boy had dormant within, it was similar to the magic he himself was using now.

(())(())(())

            Complete and utter silence pervaded the air, stifled fear overcome by the overwhelming sense of power coming from one single person in the room.  It was a different kind of fear that they were used to.  It wasn't the feeling of dislike, much as it was in other classes, but it was terror.  The teacher of that particular class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, just had that effect on people.

            The said professor also had a much different way of teaching his students than other teachers as well.  No, first of all, he felt that practical applications of the material he was teaching were the most important part of his lessons.  Also, notes were rarely used.  Indeed, they were only allowed to look at them only once for five minutes before the true lesson began.  From then on, they had to rely on their intellect and memory.  The professor did not make it easier by day, either.  No, he made it harder and harder everyday.  Therefore, it was no surprise that most students could be found poring over their Defense Against the Dark Arts texts, quizzing each other, or figuring out ways to remember the information.  The students didn't dislike the teacher nor did they hate him.  Their fear of him, of that power that lay behind that otherworldly yellow gaze, kept them in check.  Rooms and halls alike quieted when he appeared and Peeves the poltergeist was nowhere to be found wherever this individual was.  

            The mischievous apparition got the message quite clearly when he was captured, trapped inside of a stick, and then used as a fetching tool in Hagrid's class about hippogriffs (once more reinstated, to the complaint of one Draco Malfoy and his cronies).

            That professor was Raistlin Majere.

            The class scribbled hastily on their parchments, trying to copy the instructor's words down fast enough.  Professor Majere never wrote down the notes.  He dictated them and they wrote them down.  Why?  This was the way magic in the ancient days used to be taught, with high expectations expected of student, not perceiving them as dumb idiots that needed _everything_ spelled out for them.

            Though he was beginning to think that he might have to do just that in order for them to actually progress.  True, they were advancing in their studies.  To the common outsider, the difference was amazing.  To Raistlin, it was at a snail's pace.  It did not help with students that wanted everything handed out to them on a silver platter.  Today was the class of fifth year Gryffindors.

            He flicked his wand idly.  Of course, he really didn't need to.  It was an elementary facet of basic magic.  But appearances had to be kept up.  Thankfully, the school accepted him and the spies duly, with no suspicion.  They were fitting in quite well and some of their information was actually useful.  Including the bit about Death Eater sympathizers in Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin.  And there also was quite a bit of theory going around the disappearance of one Harry Potter, including that the elementals kidnapped him.  When he heard that, he smirked.

            The parchment in a pretty Indian girl's hands burst into flame before collapsing into a pile of fine ash.  "What did I say about Divination?  Fifteen points from Gryffindor."  When were they going to learn?!  This was trying his patience immensely.  So much that he had resorted to blowing random items up and talking to the Reapers.

            He scowled and the class as one tensed.  Yes, he had sunk as low as to associate himself with Reapers.

            "That is the Laceri Curse," he concluded dryly, his narrowed golden eyes surveying the class.  Right before his eyes, he could see the children getting older and older, dying from their progressively aging bodies and from what experiences they did have.  A gift from his trials, how he had received his "hourglass" eyes.  "You are to pair up and perform it on each other, as it is a widely used spell in a duel.  And I am under the impression that you will use the healing charms we learned in the class a few days ago."  There were a few guilty and befuddled stares.  Ah well.  Not his problem.

            With that, the pale-haired man sat at his desk and supervised the dueling pairs.  It took a reminder from Hermione Granger for the rest to remember the healing spell.  Pathetic.  There wouldn't always be a Hermione Granger in their lives.  And it seemed as if they were going to learn that the hard way.  War made everything different.  He was disgusted how they relied on their wands so much, but this was wizardry on this planet.  He personally would like to see a wizard handle a staff.

            Finally the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson and the beginning of dinner.  Raistlin made no move.  He never ate in the Great Hall anyway.  And he had some business to take care of.  Seeing the redhead following the bushy-haired Granger out the door, he called in his raspy voice.  "Weasley.  I'd like to speak to you for a moment."  The boy shared a worried glance with the girl before telling her to go on ahead.  She seemed reluctant to do so, but she went anyway.

            The tall boy walked up to his desk, looking nervous.  "Yes sir?"

            Time to take care of this and leave it to those other three.  " You're not in trouble.  Now stop fidgeting," he first stated brusquely.  He hated fidgeting.  "I mean to give you an option.  It could affect your future greatly."  He scrutinized Weasley, pale behind his freckles.  "Do you want to know or not?"

            Best to bait with curiosity.  It always worked.  "Yes, sir."  Did he know any other words?  Either way, human nature was so predictable.  

            He opened the drawer of the mahogany desk, easily dispelling the various protective spells over it.  Inside the compartment, there were a few potion vials and several amulets.  He looked up severely and the boy looked away, caught.  Reaching in the back, he found what he wanted.  He drew his hand out and held it out towards the fifteen-year old.  What he held was round, about as large as a muggle softball, covered in black silk.  Weasley reached to take it, but a look from the professor stopped him.

            "This is a very important item," he spoke, low and almost dangerously.  "It is worth much more than the lives of this _entire _castle."  Was this true?  That depended on whom you happened asked.  But it would do the boy some good if he scared him a bit.  "I want you to guard this for me."

            "What?!"

            "You heard me.  And I'm _not _going to repeat myself."

            "B-but I'm only a fifth-year!"  He was on the end of a skeptical look.  Raistlin merely scowled back, banishing the expression instantly.  "Shouldn't you give it to Professor Dumbledore or something?"

            "Dumbledore would not effectively guard this," he replied harshly.  "There is a reason as to why I chose you.  And I will tell you this.  It has to do with who you are.  As well as, on a separate matter however, with the missing Harry Potter."  That sealed it.  The boy's face said it all.  "If you accept guarding this, then you must tell no one of it.  Not the headmaster, not your family, nor your friend Miss Granger.  Do I make myself clear?" 

            The boy nodded and Raistlin handed over the spherical package.  The fragile warmth that the orb emanated left his hand.  His job was done.  He now could concentrate on other, more important things.  Such as the latest development with Pheta, something that had him worried.  "Keep it by you at all times and tell _no one_."

            Ron Weasley nodded before leaving the classroom.  As the door opened, he saw another person walk up to the newly appointed guardian.  It was a small Ravenclaw girl, with strange eyes and dirty blonde hair, radish-like earrings on her ears and a strange necklace of bottle corks.  They started talking, though on the side of the boy, it looked as if he were pretty uncomfortable by talking with this strange girl.  Luna Lovegood, if he remembered correctly, and she leaned to the side slightly, winking at him before going off talking about nargles.  Whatever they were.

            Raistlin sighed.  It would take awhile indeed to get used to the fact that Lunitari was hiding here at Hogwarts as well.  

(())(())(())

            Everything was black.  It looked as if the sky never existed at all, just the hard earth at his feet and the gaping void above him.  Near the ground was a strange white fog, swirling and uncoiling thickly.  It was everywhere, seeming to go on and on for miles.  There was the barely perceptible sound of dripping water, echoing in the emptiness in a ceaseless rhythm that matched his own heartbeat.  Dimly he could make out tall shapes in the darkness towering above him.

            Ron blinked in befuddlement.  Where was he?  This was definitely not his bed in the dormitories.  Or the common room in Gryffindor Tower either.  He was beginning to doubt that he was at Hogwarts altogether.

            "You are correct, young man.  You are no longer at the Castle of Divisions."  The calm male voice, strong and matter-of-fact, reverberated all around him.  He turned around in an attempt to pinpoint the speaker, but it was no use.  It was impossible to locate the individual.

            "Where are you?"

            A chuckle of amusement now sounded in the silence, but it was different from the first voice.  "Child, we are where we are.  Location never matters, so long as there is a meeting and work to be done."  The voice was also male, but different.  It was smooth and cool, enunciating each word carefully, as if he enjoyed the ambience of the words he had spoken.

            Ron was getting annoyed.  "Well, then who are you?!  Why am I here?"

            "My, we have an impudent one," said a third, a female's, that was harsh and loud to it.  "Are you certain he is the one that was called?"  He experienced a feeling through him, as if he were being scrutinized carefully.  "He is a bit young.  And looks like one of the Irish…or Scottish."  Ron turned red.  They had been looking over him.

            "When one is called, they are called…" the second voice said cryptically.

            "Don't give me that!" the woman replied passionately.  "It's been years, my doubt is justified!"

            The first voice interceded with, "Enough!  We must do this.  He was indeed the one that was called and we must do our duty.  This is a milestone, the revival of the old and the new age is about to begin."  The second and third voices mumbled incoherently here, but the redheaded Gryffindor was paying attention.  Rather, he was concentrating on their previous words.  They were expecting him or someone had called him.  But what on Earth did they mean?  He didn't bother with the second part of what was said.  He knew he would not understand it anyway.

            "Look!" he yelled out.  "Tell me what you want with me!"

            "Be patient!" the female lashed out and Ron recoiled, reminded slightly of both his mother and Professor Snape.  "We were about to explain-"

            "It didn't sound like it."  He was slightly surprised at his own daring.  But it did give him some satisfaction when he heard the woman growl in frustration.

            "Never mind her," the second voice said.  "We must ask:  we're you given a strange object today and told it was of great worth?"  Ron blinked.  No one was supposed to know!  "Answer truthfully."

            "Why should I tell you?" Ron answered.  "I don't even know who you are!"

            There were a few hushed whispers before the first voice spoke, "Acceptable answer.  For a beginner."

            "And for one that seems quite ignorant," the female interjected.

            Yes, he was insulted.

            "You have passed," the second voice proclaimed.  "And you have earned the right."

            All of a sudden, there was light.  It source was beneath his feet, were lines curved and crossed together to form complicated runes and symbols, all contained within a large circle.  Along the edges of the circle were torches, primitive in appearance, burning brightly in the dark.  Ron could now make out the gigantic stone towers around him, each looking old and ancient, the water he was hearing before dripping and collecting into small pools on the earth.  After looking around, he noticed the three people standing in front of him.  They seemed normal enough to the eye.  _Not Death Eaters_, he quickly deduced.  They had a strange dignity about them that supported this.  The man with the brown hair on the left had a thick scar running down his weathered face.  He wore mail armor and green, with a sword belted at his waist.  The light haired man to the right wore robes similar to those of wizards, but they were old-fashioned, with cuffs and chains.  Strange talismans and a few vials hung from his belt.  He had a thoughtful, aristocratic face.  The fierce woman was there, standing between them, almost equal in height to the tall men.  Her hair was wild and untamed, red as wildfire.  She wore a tartan cloak, fastened with a simple brooch, over a simple brown gown, a golden band around her neck.  Her eyes seemed to stab him.  All thoughts of revenge for that previous remark collapsed in a heartbeat.

            It was a comical sight, a tall lanky fifteen-year old in his maroon pajamas staring in shock, wide-open wide enough to catch flies.  The man on the left found it amusing anyway, the other two found it rather immature.  "Excuse me," the man in the robes said.  He made a clear gesture with no doubt as to what he wanted Ron to do.  Ron promptly closed his mouth.

            "Welcome to Old Stonehenge," the man in armor said kindly.  "We are the Druid Guardians.  I assume you know why you were called?"

            "No," he answered simply, feeling quite idiotic, much like he did when Hermione went on about the twelve uses of dragon's blood and their effects in various potions.  It had been five years and she still hadn't realized that he would never understand it.  Even with the pneumonic devices and the flashcards she came up with.

            The woman frowned.  "You are a Guardian, are you not?  You were given something to guard.  Raistlin Majere makes no mistakes.  Or if he has, very few indeed."

            Ron took out the still silk covered sphere out of his pocket carefully.  _Keep it with me at all times_.  "How do you know Professor Majere gave this to me?"

            She snorted.  "It is our business to know.  Especially considering the object you have and that we are dealing with you."  The woman then raised a red eyebrow.  "You haven't uncovered it yet?"

            "Of course, he hasn't," the robed man defended.  "We haven't initiated him.  Have you forgotten that?"

            "Well, let's see.  It's been _centuries_, maybe!"

            "No need to get touchy."

            "Both of you!" the armored man ended, before turning back to the boy.  "I see that Majere had not explained to you the immensity of this.  Understandable.  It is not in his nature to."  _That's the truth._  "As I had said before, we are the Druid Guardians.  We were the last of a group of magic-users called Guardians, whose purpose was to guard special items, animals, or even people for a specific fate or destiny.  The gods chose with certain…qualifications to do this."

            "Gods?" he asked skeptically.

            "Yes.  There are many gods.  There used to be many guardians.  But things had changed since the past."  Ron was now the recipient of three proud gazes.  "You are the first to be chosen in centuries.  But what must be asked is if you accept this post.  While it has its rewards, there is pain and battle ahead."

            The boy shrugged.  Pain and battle were ahead of him anyway.  _There are rewards_.  He doubted it was gold, but maybe it was glory and recognition.  Or power.  He could step out of the shadows of his brothers and come into his own.  Maybe even with this duty, he could find his missing friend.  "I accept."

            "Without knowing of the consequences?" the robed man asked.

            "I'll take them."

            The woman shook her head.  "The recklessness of youth."

            "You are hardly young," the robed man teased.  "And if I remember correctly you still are reckless."

            "I'd keep my guard up if I were you…"

            The armored man sighed in exasperation while the other two began to bicker.  It seemed as if this was a normal occurrence.  "Well, then," the man began, unsheathing the plain sword at his waist.  It was completely unremarkable and plain, with a soulless blank metal that shone dully in the torchlight.  "Let's see who will mentor you."  _Mentor?_  The armored man threw the sword in the air, where it flipped once, a dim light in the void above, before descending slowly to the earth.  It landed flat in front of him, spinning wildly, but it soon began to slow down

            "Whoever the weapon points to, is your mentor," he dimly heard the robed man explaining.  "They will help you understand your duties and your abilities.  It also determines your alignment to an element, which determines your base nature."

            This was odd.

            It made slow circles again and again, growing more sluggish with every spin.  Finally, it stopped.

            Its hilt was directed at his feet.  And its tip pointed to the redheaded woman.

            "Your alignment is to fire," the armored man said lightly.  "You are loyal and passionate about what you believe in.  But you are impulsive with a temper as well.  I wish you luck then, young Ronald.  Maybe you will meet me, Blaine of Earth, again someday."  With a shimmer, Blaine vanished in the fog.

            The robed man nodded in acknowledgement.  "I also wish you good fortune, which you will need to deal with **her**."  He received a glare for that comment.  "May you fare well.  You have the blessing of Craden of Water."  Craden too disappeared in the mist.  He was now alone with his…mentor, the rude woman that seemed take enjoyment in insulting him.

            "I am Boudicca of Fire," she said brusquely, walking into the lit circle with sure and broad steps towards him.  She was not just tall, she was very tall.  He was only as tall as her shoulder.  "I was the former queen of the Iceni tribe of the Britons before those blasted Romans invaded."  Thus, she began to rant just what she thought about the Romans, most of her vocabulary here consisting of profanity and swearing.  _She was a queen.  I thought queens were at least…not scary looking._  _And that they didn't curse._  "Moving on," Boudicca continued, still scowling at the thought of Romans.  "You may remove the covering.  I'll take care of this."  Ron, who had been curious as to what the sphere **was** since it was given to him, hastened to remove the silk.  He didn't notice the woman bend down to take up the sword lying abandoned on the ground.

            The black silk slipped away from the sphere's smooth surface like water.  The orb was made of pure crystal, clear and unflawed.  Within the orb, clear to the eye, was a black feather.  It was darker than dark, it was pure black, but it radiated some kind of warmth.  The heat was not severe and Ron noticed that it was warmer than it had been back at Majere's office…or even when this strange dream began.

            "If you are done."

            He looked up, slightly embarrassed.  He had somehow forgotten that she was there.  Boudicca loomed above him, the sword in her hands.  But it was not plain anymore.  The blade was now of shining steel, with a deadly sharp and thin edge.  The metal hilt was inlaid in black, with soft leather providing a firm grip.  Within the black shone blood red garnets surrounding a larger crimson ruby.  Barely visible, were runes printed on the side of the blade.

            "An interesting blade," Boudicca commented.  "With an intriguing message.  'To protect with the searing flames'."  She then gave him another of her assessing looks.  It made him step back slightly, but he had the feeling he should get used to this.  "I have seen weapons like this only belonging to those who are friends of a dark one."  She raised an eyebrow at his sudden look of fear and revulsion before chiding him roughly.  "Do not be so naïve.  Just because one is dark, does not mean they are evil.  That is just a prejudice wizards have come up with.  It is _your _weapon."  Boudicca sheathed the sword before handing it to him without any ceremony or grace.  "You better use it well or I'll have your head, lad.  That item, the Feather of Death-Shadowed Wings, is a relic beyond worth."

            He nodded numbly, shifting the orb to take the sword.  "It is time for you to return."  She nodded imperiously.  "Do not fail us, Dark Flame Guardian."

            Ron shot up in his bed, breathing heavily as if he had run a marathon.  But his gasps became slower and calmer as he recognized the crimson hangings of his four-poster bed.  It didn't seem as if it were even morning yet.  "It was all just a crazy dream," he muttered to himself.

            But that was before he noticed in his hand was a crystal orb containing a black feather and that a sheathed sword was lying innocently and neatly on his lap.  When he did notice, he would blink several times before proclaiming that he needed some tea.  **Badly.**

            Two months.  In just two months everything had changed far beyond Dudley ever thought that they would.

            Orange streetlight slanted through the blinds of his room, the silence of the late hour actually deafening.  In this strange dim vermilion illumination, the shadows were long and black, extending across distances.  They happened upon the pile of textbooks on the desk, the crumpled papers scattered across the floor, the many toys and knickknacks he had collected over the years.  But there was one thing in this room whose shadow was the longest, but the lightest in black tone.  It belonged to a rather large boy, a husky young man with the image of one losing weight.  He was trying, his face looking less pudgy and chubby.  Blond hair, thin and fine, was cut extremely short.  A black and silver watch-like device was around his thick wrist.  The eyes of Dudley Dursley looked out on to the peaceful avenue that was Privet Drive, well aware that his mother was fast asleep and that his fellow demon hunter, Lirenas, was probably up looking at the stars once more.

            He couldn't deny that there were some changes that he would rather have not occurred.  His father going insane and Harry being abused and then disappearing in thin air were a few of those examples.  But he couldn't deny that there were some good things that had happened.  Even just admitting that there were actually that something beneficial had come out of this climatic and rather unusual summer was a difference.

            It disgusted him really, to think of what he used to be like.  A spoiled pig, only grabbing what was there and only wanted more.  He was a hopeless gastronome then and that gluttony had nearly killed him.  It was funny, really.  Death, even the prospect of it, can really open a person's eyes to the truth.  Those days of just staring up at the ceiling, wondering when his time would come, when his heart would finally fail to support his overweight body, still shadowed him a bit.  The anticipation, the fear, the worry that his mother felt, the knowledge of what was happening, the abandonment…it was still all starkly clear in his mind.

            To think that he of all people would be given a second chance.

            To put it truthfully, Dudley didn't believe that he deserved the chance at all.  There were much better people in the world to offer that opportunity to.  Much better people, with better hearts and minds, who could continue their good work and charity.  Not him, who was worthless in life.  Yet, somehow, it happened.  Given to him by a strange goddess, cloaked in the darkest shadows, with unforgettable blue eyes that would be forever burned into his soul.  

            It wasn't as if he was going to waste it either.  He was exercising, fighting demons, and for once doing averagely well in school without having to resort to cheating or other methods to do so.  He had friends now.  He was actually gaining some respect in the community.  Not as a large loud bully anymore, but as a helpful young man that had made a turnaround in his life.  Now, he had a closer relationship to his mother.  She was a person he could talk to with his problems if he needed help, not someone to provide for him and be his own personal chef/slave.  It was a pity that he realized this now, after fifteen years of treating her otherwise.  But he tried to reassure himself that it was better now than never doing so.

            His father.  They got the word just a few days later.  They found him slumped dead in the mental institution the wizards had dropped him off at.  He and dozens of others, lying dead with blank unseeing odds.  It would be callous of him to say that he didn't feel the slightest remorse for this loss.  True, his father was a jerk and a child abuser, prejudiced and rude.  But Dudley couldn't deny that his father was proud of him in some fashion, even if he was being praised for being the worse he could be.  All Dudley could comfort himself was with the thought that the man was finally given some sort of closure, some kind of peace.  What was life when fearing something perpetually?  Especially when the terror was one of ancient power, one that could not be killed by lowly mortals?  No, he was gone.  And it, perhaps, was better that way.

            Harry.  Now there was a burden of guilt on his shoulders.  It was worse because every time, no matter how much he could try to twist and turn it, he was horrible towards him.  They could have been friends, close as brothers.  Could have been.  But no.  He had to be the one to put him down, to embarrass him, to make sure he never made friends, to guarantee his cousin would be alone and miserable.  And the black-haired boy had never asked for it.  He had done nothing for that treatment other than living.  He had always assumed him to be weak then.  It was he that was immature and weak though.  Though it was stupid of him to dwell on such thoughts now.  Harry was gone.  All he had were the assurances of the Shadow Goddess and the fact that Harry had come to help him before vanishing once more.  On the roof, his cousin looked different, stronger (though that attack had proved _that_).  But that wasn't it entirely.  It was as if Harry didn't recognize him, from the way that he had just stared at him.  And the green had taken on that alien quality that he had seen in the Shadow Goddess herself.  All he could do, he decided, was to wait.  He wouldn't search him out.  It wouldn't be right of him, to be demanding forgiveness like that.

            He had a new life.  But there were some things that bothered him.  Harry.  School.  The wizards.  And, of course, the demons.

            He'd get through it all.

            It would appear that he would just have to believe.

            To have faith…that somehow…through everything…it will all turn out for the best in the end.

            "An interesting base you have here, Darius."

            "What better way to avoid notice?  They rarely notice a bit of magic on the Earth itself, why would they see us as we are?"

            "You haven't lost your touch over the years, child.  That is good to see."

            A woman that looked to be in her forties, with blonde hair and golden eyes, stood in front of a large window.  Her robes were a deep purple, the color of royalty and dignity, embroidered with lavish designs, Arabic in grace and form, in bright yellow thread.  She stood in the casual manner of one that knew their place and abilities.  Though this stance did hide her true nature, for she was hardly emanating the great power that she possessed as one of the Trinity, the Great Triumvirate.  But she, the Universe, was like that.  She preferred to seem approachable, not like some overbearing authority figure.  A shimmering pale blue light lit her rather ordinary face (excepting the eyes, of course).

            Empire City was a technological marvel, far beyond the progress that the mortals below had made.  But this was understandable, seeing that the Harbingers had created the incredible Castle in the Sky thousands of years before.  And if that was the best they could do then, it was only logical what they could do now.  Its outer shell was made of an impenetrable combination of magic and metal, strengthened by up to twenty layers of the same material beneath it.  Its magical wards were extremely advance, allowing for the receiving of signals and sending out messages that were not picked up by the muggle satellites.  The wards also prevented notice and damage from attack.  Within lay a self-sufficient city, with its own facilities, vegetation, water, and population (largely made up of the most trusted employees of the mastermind behind this paradise and their families).  It was the greatest outpost in this planet's history, allowing for the perfect surveillance, research, defense, assault, and transportation vantages.  All this lay up here, far out of the reach of those who were not deeply involved in the happenings of the present and the recent past.

            "Like what you see?"

            "An excellent vantage point.  Strategic, as always."

            "I do try.  It has been quite a few millenniums since I've been completely conscious and in control, as you well know."

            "I'm sorry for putting you through all that."

            "It is hardly your fault.  _We _were the ones to make our decision."

            "But I wasn't there."

            "Don't bother with it.  What has happened has happened, what has been done has been done.  It isn't as if we would have wanted to change our outcome anyway.  I think…that it is better that it happened that way."

            "This is a new side of you."

            "Blame it on existing as a human.  One tends to pick idealistic views and faith when one.  I find it funny that it comforts me on some level, even though I already know what the harsh truth is."

            Outside the window, was the Earth.  A blue jewel, the white were swirling and streaking all across its surface in a strange beauty.  Green and brown areas interrupted the large masses of blue on the surface, the continents that continually moved and changed throughout in every minute of the day, years, millenniums, and eons.  Expanses of pure white glittered shone brightly at the poles, the air looking to be much clearer there.  Earth, the last treasure of magic from the great Golden Age, spun on its axis in the black, star spattered, void of space.  A truly magnificent sight.

            She turned around to face Darius, looking at him with an expression of quiet patience and a bit of pain.  The semicircular room was cloaked in shadows, but her attention was focused on the young man leaning against the far wall.  Tall, his hair was neat and overall physical appearance was proper, though his shirt collar and tie were loosened in a careless fashion.  He wore a smoky gray cloak draped over his shoulders, a silver chain tying it together.  His eyes were insolent and amused, deep hazel.  He was Mathias Clarimorir, the reincarnated Darius.

            "I assume," the Universe stated, a smile pulling at her lips.  "You know where all the others are?"  It didn't matter how much time passed, it seemed as if her children were timeless.  She missed Darius' easy laidback attitude.  Though, granted, he was like that rarely.  He usually was exasperated or stressed before, considering she had put him in charge of all the Harbingers.  They were all more or less equal in power, but Darius had an experience and wisdom that earned him his place.

            As expected, a frown formed on his face.  "Considering how few of us there actually are, it wasn't too hard.  A few were given their final judgment, though."  The frown was next replaced with a scowl.  "But apparently, someone – I believe a Maleficus, but I'm not sure – has been destroying Harbinger souls while in the living state."  His eyes narrowed in anger and distaste.  "Either that, or they turned."

            It was the Universe's turn to frown.  "Some…they've turned."

            A grim nod.  "Yes.  Including Adirenne and Nephilus."  The words, _my second-in-commands_, were left unsaid.  Adirenne and Nephilus were among her best.  And she suspected that Adirenne's betrayal hurt the most.  "All turned to Maleficus.  Adirenne abandoned us before the Verdict.  Nephilus turned later to save his own existence.  Not that there is one left after becoming one of those monstrosities."

            "How many?"

            "About half reached their final judgment, a few just barely making it to Lethe and Annuvin."  Maleficus couldn't penetrate the dark realms without a lot of power.  Most weren't going to do so where they could probably only stay for about one minute before being immediately attacked.  "The other half is the problem.  Half of those were destroyed, a quarter turned, and another quarter are either here or haven't been born again."  Callous statistics, abrasive to the ears.  But she was pleased to hear that many of those have been found.

            "Any that I should be aware that are here?" she asked, somewhat hopefully, her voice rising slightly.

            A grin.  "You'd know them a few of them, certainly.  They are a bit young though in mortal age, however…"

            "And you aren't?  If I recall, you're just nineteen in human years."

            "Shut up!" he retorted indignantly, freezing immediately after the words left his mouth.  Blinking afterward, he then blushed brightly before muttering an apology for that remark.

            "I know, I know," she replied gently, "contact with humans."

            "Heh, heh…" He coughed self-consciously before snapping his fingers.  The panels of one of the sidewalls opened to reveal a silver viewing screen.  A brief flash of light flickered on the screen before a clear picture formed on the monitor.  Seeing its occupants, the Universe smiled in a genuinely wide smile.

            On the screen, two people of about the same age were shown, sitting on a deep red leather couch.  One was a young girl with long auburn hair and a pretty face, laughter lighting up her entire visage, most noticeably her amber colored eyes.  She had a curvy figure, visible through her casual black jeans and dark purple t-shirt.  Next to her, looking decidedly like he didn't want to be there, was a young man with light blue eyes and shaggy dark brown hair.  He was sitting stiffly, wearing beige khakis and a blue shirt under a brown leather jacket.  Both wore gray cloaks, identical to that of Mathias', over their shoulders.

            The girl turned to the other.  "C'mon!  Why aren't you laughing?"

            The glare she received could have penetrated steel, but she looked unperturbed.  "Because I don't get it!" was the emphatic reply.

            "How can you not?!  _Airplane_ is a classic!"

            "But that could **never** happen!" 

            "It's not **supposed** to.  It's just supposed to be funny.  Like Otto the Autopilot.  Like he 'Don't call me, Shirley' joke.  Like that guy's drinking problem."

            "Explain that."

            "Well, what do you think of when you hear 'drinking problem'?"

            "An alcoholic."

            "Exactly.  He has a drinking problem, but he isn't an alcoholic.  His problem is the action of drinking in general."  There was a short pause before the girl pointed to the TV.  "See?"

            The boy looked disdainful for a moment before giving her a scathing look.  "And **that** is supposed to be funny?"

            The girl hit him playfully in the arm.  "Honestly.  After all these years and you _still_ don't have a sense of humor, Hiro."

            "Don't call me that."

            "Yeah, yeah…"

            With that, the screen turned off.  The Universe, chuckling lightly, turned back to Mathias.  "Let me guess.  The reincarnations of Hiroshi and Megami."

            "Right.  Though here, they just are Hiroshi Takashi and Miranda Blackthorne.  But, you are right, they haven't changed."

            "What of, Falcifer?  Where is he?"

            "Yeah…about that…" Mathias now looked incredibly uncomfortable.

            "What happened."  It was more of a stated fact than a question.

            "You see, Falcifer was reincarnated as a female…"

            "What?!" the Universe exclaimed.  "I know my magic, child.  And if you were reincarnated, then you would remain the same gender!"  She practically yelled this at the young man, who kept his stance, though wincing.

            "I know _that_," he returned.  "But you forgot about what happens in the mortal plane.  Falcifer was supposed to be one of a pair of fraternal twins.  But because of a sickness that the mother experienced, the twin he was supposed to be reincarnated as died before birth."  Mathias rolled his eyes.  "Being who he is – and that is stubborn as a pig – he took the body of the _other _twin.  The girl."

            The Universe muttered under breath some choice curses, most of them pertaining to the fact that her magic in this case was not infallible.  "So, Falcifer is now a girl."

            "Yep.  Keisha Jennings, African-American from Los Angeles.  Adjusted well, I guess.  Considering that she called me a, and I quote, 'chauvinistic piece of crap' and to 'go rot in Tartarus, bigoted jerk' when I questioned her identity."  He shrugged, grinning.  "There were a few more choice comments, but I don't think you want to hear them."

            "Where is she now?"

            "Summer school.  She was suspended a few months ago for supposedly 'attacking' the principal's son with a switchblade.  There's a whole story behind that incident, cluttered with creative euphemisms for both the principal and the kid."

            The Universe shook her head.  "Still the same temper, I see."

            "The thing I can't figure out," Mathias noted, his gaze now focused on the rotating Earth below.  "is where Nuitari is."

            "I would not worry.  I have seen his reincarnation and he is doing fine."

            "Then why hasn't he joined us?"

            "Because he hasn't awakened yet."

            "Why not?  You have had contact with him."

            "I know.  But I assume he has his reasons.  His reincarnation has quite a bit on his plate though."

            "Really?"

            "Yes, Pheta is after him."

            "So, he's a descendant of a dark god.  Unsurprising."

            "You catch on quick."

            "Hmm…why didn't she recognize him for what he was then?  When she tried to spy on me, she knew immediately that I was Darius."

            "Simple.  He is using the power of the dark gods that his reincarnation has to shield his presence.  Clever of him to do so.  I would not worry though.  Seeing that he is among the elementals of Grey Tower."

            "Heh.  Nuitari always was a resourceful bastard."

            Far off to sea, invisible to the eye of the pure and innocent, a small island exists.  A neither small island where neither grass nor tree grew and where nothing of any wholesome and chaste nature could prosper.  A small island on which loomed a dread fortress of cold, merciless stone.  Grey, looming clouds covered the open expanse of the sky perpetually, the only indicative of the passage of night and day was through the darkening and lightening of these nebulous veils.  It was a stronghold, designed to keep those in and others out.  It screamed its contempt of humanity, of their weaknesses and their tendencies towards pain and injustice, as well as laughed at them, reveling in the decrepit character of man.  For that was what fed apon, fueled by the unhappiness and the evil, relishing in its stringent yet seductive flavor.  

            This was Azkaban.

            In the thickened silence that surrounded this accursed placed continuously, a piercing scream.  One of pain and betrayal, one filled with anguish and malice, it seared the air like a knife.  It hung, a fierce ring, before others joined in its horrific chorus…and still even more.  It was not long before all that was there was the sound of screaming.

            Then there was silence.

            And, finally, a cheer.  More added to it.  Gleeful cheering, raw and unbridled, animal-like and primitive, rose from the fortress' dread corridors and stone.  There was a loud rumbling from within, the sound of feet pounding mixing in with the jubilation.  A loud bang blew apart the barred entrance of the gate, ragged pale figures ran out on weak legs, a shine in their malicious eyes, a blackness beginning to intensify behind their ever growing smiles.  Each of them were emaciated bodies, living and breathing cadavers, all waiting.  To the site, the ghastly specters, the dementors, stood to the side, their unseeing eyes focused to the coast.

            A small boat landed with a thud, the cadence of rotting wood against stone barely heard over the slapping ocean waves.   With a strange grace, a man stepped from the tiny dinghy, black robes sweeping the hard stone.  It was a tall man, his long pale spidery fingers clasping a red wand that glimmered in the gray gloom, his crimson serpent eyes holding a prideful and triumphant quality as they glanced over the crowd.  The volume of the cheering increased dramatically, some of the former prisoners falling to their knees in tears.  Not long after, other vessels joined the first at the shore.  But these were unimportant.  No, in the eyes of those who deserved to be forsaken, there was only one.

            Lord Voldemort had landed at Azkaban.

            "My loyal servants," he boomed out.  "I'm pleased to see you have survived the torture put upon you.  You, my most faithful and loyal!"  The cheering began again, only silenced by a swift gesture from their master.  "Yes, I have come again.  And this time, we will not be stopped!  The Ministry will suffer at our hands and those dirty excuses for magic users will feel our power!"  The high-pitched voice of the demon, laced with attractive words and poison, rose over the now wild crowd.  "With the dementors at our side and the giants, we will prevail!"

            As one, the prisoners stormed forward, running into the boats, joyful and happy at their freedom to once more be a plague to this earth.  The demon watched this all with a large smirk on his face.  _Lady Pheta will be pleased._

            He himself went back to his own boat.  Only one had dared join the few that were already there.  She fierce looking woman with heavy-lidded eyes:  Bellatrix Lestrange.  

            But there was something that Voldemort's demon eyes missed.  Something that everyone missed.  Or rather, someone.  But they were good at not being noticed.  It was their job after all.  His face was handsome beyond compare, his only flaw being a thin scar across his tanned cheek, deceptive in its beauty.  His armor was black, lightweight and shimmering, as if it had the ability to become invisible.  Attached to his back were four wings, insect-like and iridescent like that of a fly's, webbed with stark black.  He grinned menacingly in victory.

            And thus, a Maleficus was among the company of the reunited Death Eaters, waiting.  Waiting for the chaos to begin again.

            The Hall of Kings was as brilliant as ever.  Sunlight filtered through the great windows of the sprawling palace.  The sweet scent of lotus, attracting and alluring, hung thick in the air.  The strange songs of brightly colored birds that never would and never will find a place in the realm of mortals was melodic and harmonious, pleasing to the ear.  The sky was a lazy summer blue, with fluffy white clouds meandering across its expanse.  The domes and roofs of the citadel sparkled in the warm light.  Such was another beautiful day in Nirvana, at the Hall of Kings.

            The atmosphere within was an entirely different matter.

            The white marble of the main hall fairly glowed in the sunshine, while the gigantic mirrors formed patterns on the walls and floor.  Around the golden round table, stood the five gods of elemental magic.  Each stood at different sections, similar to the points of a pentagon, with plenty of space between.  Kybele and Aquarius stood at one side, facing Pyramis and Gyelia.  Rin stood at the top.  All wore stony expressions.  The air that hovered over them was tense and uncomfortable, almost humming with an unseen pressure.

            "I'm sure we know why we're all here," Rin began.

            "Of course," the blond Gyelia remarked.  "We're here to discuss how we can Pheta, right?"  Her voice was high-pitched and annoying, much like a hyperactive chipmunk.  It made the other four immediately wince.  Worse, it had a wheedling whining undertone to it.  But Gyelia was always like that, eager to be amongst the supposed more influential group.

            "You airhead," Aquarius hissed in anger, bristling.  "We are here to discuss Pheta alright, that conniving little bit-"

            Kybele interceded hastily with, "Aquarius!  Language!"

            "Well, I'm sorry 'Sister Mary Margaret', but I'm just stating it the way I see it."  

            "I won't deny that you are right," the dark-skinned woman with the many green braids remarked dryly.  "But please!"  Kybele nodded toward the now angry Gyelia, who was already causing a slight wind to rise up.  The red-haired Pyramis continued to look slightly out of it, staring at the surface of the table as if it were the most fascinating piece of furniture he had ever seen.

            "How can you insult Lady Pheta like that?"

            "Oh, it's _Lady Pheta_ now!"  Aquarius rolled his eyes.  "What are you, the blasted woman's serving girl now?  What do you do, float a daily cup of ambrosia to her and sing her songs and be her perpetual slave like the rest of them?"  The blue-haired god sneered.  "How pathetic.  You're degrading yourself."

            "I'm not degrading myself!  I'm merely consorting with the **right** kind of people!" she countered.  "Unlike you two!  Who in their right mind would willingly spend time with **dark gods** like _Melania_ or _Thanatos_?"  The wind goddess spat the last two names out as if they were something horribly disgusting and dirty.

            "One who actually enjoys an intelligent conversation and isn't required to kiss their feet?" answered Kybele.  Her statement was phrased as a question, just for the mere purpose of insulting Gyelia's intelligence.  "We are treated as equals by the dark gods.  Pheta treats you and the rest of that sorry lot as followers, a bunch of sheep to her every whim and bidding at the mere snap of her 'ladyship's' fingers."

            "The dark gods are evil," Pyramis interjected dully.  

            "Wow," exclaimed the water god.  "You can _talk_ on your own!"  He turned to the earth goddess in mock excitement.  "Look Kybele, Rin!  He can talk on his own!  He doesn't need his little mistress to tell him to!  I never thought I would see the day."

            "Shut up!" the fire god burst out angrily.  "I don't need Pheta to tell me what to do."

            "That's a surprise," Kybele answered.  "For the last couple of centuries, I wasn't aware you even had an opinion of your own anymore."

            "I still think he doesn't," replied Aquarius contemptuously.  "I can't say much for the airhead, though.  I don't think she has ever had an opinion since we were created to begin with."

            "HOW DARE YOU-" Gyelia began to screech, before Pyramis interrupted.

            "Rin!  What about you?"  All gazes turned to the brunette woman in the canary yellow.  "Who do you support?"

            Rin sighed.  This was the main reason why there were five of them.  To balance out any disagreement.  "I support Melania's cause."

            Gyelia let an in insulted and prissy sniff before striding over to Pyramis.  Grabbing the surprised god's arm, she summoned a strong wind.  Within moments both were gone, with nothing to show that they were ever there.

            "Well," Rin exclaimed after a brief moment.  "That was enlightening."

            "Define _enlightening_," returned Aquarius in a more sarcastic tone than usual.

            Kybele glared at him before smacking him over the head.  "Of course, it was enlightening.  We know where they stand now."

            "And that they're both idiots?"

            Rin gave a wry smirk.  "Not really.  We already knew that."

            The shrill sound of an alarm jolted him out of his relatively peaceful sleep.  From the huddled form beneath the mass of covers, a pale hand reached out, long fingers outstretched and searching.  After a few fruitless grasps, the fingers pushed the small red button down before pushing the alarm clock away.  The hand retreated back underneath the warmth of the blankets, seemingly satisfied.  That was the third time the cursed piece of machinery had done that this morning.  He wanted to sleep!

            There was an amused chuckle.  "Like _that_ will prevent you from getting out of that bed."  Not far from head of the half-asleep Nuitari "Night" Hawking was a mirror, one side of black enamel with the silver dragon emblem, the other a reflective surface.  On that glass-like side, the gray and green toned room was not reflected.  Rather, a dark haired man with dark blue eyes of about twenty-five looked on with ill-concealed enjoyment.  "You will have to get up eventually."

            Underneath the fabric came a mumbled string of words, unintelligible but no doubt rude.  Tom Riddle, laughing, brandished a wand of black wood at the boy from his side of the mirror, an easy graceful movement that contained the fluidity of a snake.  

            Immediately, the covers flew up and the boy beneath them went flying out of the bed on to the floor.  The blankets floating in midair above him fluttered down to rest on top of him.  A frustrated groan mixed with the older man's mirth.

            "I dislike you greatly."

            "Sure you do…"

            "No, really."

            "Right."

            "…This is inhumane!"

            "No, it isn't.  It's called 'waking up'.  Most people do that in the morning to get things done instead of lying in bed all day," was the sarcastic reply.

            Another moan escaped the throat of the still drowsy Night.

            It was true, he really didn't dislike him.  It was just that he wasn't really a morning person.  He didn't think he ever would be either.  The fact that his room faced west, the opposite of where the sun rose, probably had something to do with it, since his room only received a bit of dull light from the window.  But Tom – as well as the rest of society – had other plans.  Why else would alarm clocks be invented?  Why else would distant relatives stuck in another plane of existence force him out of his warm, comfortable bed that he had absolutely no desire to leave?  If there was another reason other than torturing him by waking him up, then he would love to hear it.

            Besides, Tom was the best teacher he could get in wizarding magic considering that it was hardly ever practiced in the elemental community of Grey Tower Town.  Though it was a good thing, since Tom's knowledge of magic was incredible.  But it would have to be if he got the grades he claimed he received at that school…Hogwarts?  What kind of name was that for a school?…while fighting off a demon trying to kill you and take over your body.  Night did think that Tom was skipping over a few things as well as broaching topics he didn't think were taught legally.  The Dark Arts weren't exactly part of any curriculum that hoped to create "hardworking, contributing wizards with little knowledge to society" (Tom's words, not his own).  But Night himself was grasping the lessons easily.  Tom's style, a combination of discipline and fun, did wonders.  The wizard said he should be about halfway through the fifth year syllabus by now.  Which Night gathered as pretty good.

            "Get up, you've got school!"

            School.  He forgot.  It started at 8:00…one bleary eye widened in shock when it focused on the luminous numbers of the clock…7:00!  He promised his mother he'd be up at six!  Rising from the mess of bedclothes on the floor, he immediately began to make his bed.  Though he didn't do much of the work himself, carelessly pointing his wand and letting his magic do it for him.  Perched on the tree outside his window, his two pets watched in amusement as he rushed relieve himself of his pajamas and put on his uniform.  They wisely ignored the comment of, "Why didn't you two wake me up?!", their smug moods that showed in their expressions increased.

            Tom raised a sardonic eyebrow.  "Yes, Night.  Rely on your pets to wake you up.  There's a reason you have an alarm clock."

            Scowling, he managed to belt up his gray slacks and button up his white shirt.  "I know – but that doesn't mean that I have to _listen _to the alarm."

            "Oh!  Then you've wasted your money."

            In response, the boy stuck out his tongue childishly, while pulling out a dark green blazer.  Slipping the garment on, he straightened the cuff and lapels, as he did so, his hand brushing the black and silver dragon embroidered on the left sleeve.  It was customary that the symbol of the clan appear on the blazer's left sleeve of all students attending Grey Tower High.

            "Well, you look…spiffy."

            "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

            "That depends.  I suppose the school must be good since it's pretty lenient about what you wear.  As long as you look respectable and wearing the blazer, which comes in different colors."  Tom wrinkled his nose in disgust.  "I knew this girl in Hogwarts, Gilda Venéer.  Always wore pastel robes, even if it was against the dress code.  Lilac, I believe, was her favorite.  Personally, I thought that Paul Lockhart was an idiot for running around with that blond.  Always used to talk about snogging at the Astronomy Tower and all with her, even though Professor Pleaides would have obviously found them if they had.  Always exaggerated."  He stopped his reminiscing at Night's laughter.  "I'm happy you find my stories so funny."

            "That's because they are," he managed to choke out.

            "They were all I had," Tom replied, somewhat stoically.  But the frown that graced his face briefly was replaced once more with a smirk.  "Though I now have a lot to deal with."

            "Thanks," Night drawled, rolling his eyes.  They were now gray due to his contact lenses.  He would put on his glasses at school.  "I'm happy to know that keeping an eye on me has become a way for you to spend time."

            "No problem!  Tell me how school goes…oh!"  The man himself on the head in a playful manner.  "The Lady says she wants to talk to you.  Soon, I think."

            "Am I in trouble?"

            "Nah, I just think she wants to see how you're doing directly from you.  I better be going.  See you soon!"  With a merry wave and a brief glimmer, the glass became blank.  The mirror shrunk to its normal compact size and dropped onto the bed with a plop, the silver dragon emblem and chain hardly noticeable in the small amount of morning light.  Chuckling, Night grabbed the trinket and slipped the chain over his neck.

            As he left the room, he looked back over his shoulder to where his pets were still lounging in the tree.  "I suppose you both had already eaten already."

            A satisfied hoot and purr was his response.  The morning grumpiness wearing off a bit after his conversation with Tom, Night merely laughed.

(())(())(())

            Not for the first time since he discovered he was an elemental, he was thankful that he had wind magic.  The fact that he could increase his speed (and fly) was a definite plus.  Especially since he was late to school.  Not a good thing.  Bran and Trina were probably wondering where he was.  And he had only fifteen minutes to the bell.

            The morning was a cold one, the dew that had collected on the lawns of Grey Tower Town looking slightly frostlike.  Weather reports had predicted a particularly cold fall and an early winter.  He preferred the cold weather, actually.  The bite of the cool wind in his face and the fresh chill in the air invigorated him, effectively bringing out of his usually morning stupor.  

            Which was he was half-running very fast and half-flying down Ariceles Boulevard, narrowly avoiding plowing into the occasional person or the quite stationary tree.  Hedwig was flying close to him, he could tell, and he couldn't help but smirk when he thought he saw the lithe form of a black cat following him.  The green and silver scarf, one of the gifts Tom had given him when Shadow had appeared, was loosely wrapped around his neck, flying backward as he continued to try to make it too school before the bell.  Zylle wasn't pleased ("I'm beginning to wonder why I bought that alarm clock, if you don't wake up to it," she had said).  But she was also late, her alarm clock also being unsuccessful that morning, as Gran was quick to put in.  So he didn't feel so bad after that.  She grinned apologetically before he ran out the door, but she made sure that he at least downed a few of Gran's pancakes before.  He was still growing and still needed to put on some more weight.  Night was still quite thin, but he noticed that he was gaining more muscle now.

            It was at this moment that some unseen force stopped him abruptly.  Startled, he fell to the pavement in a rather undignified plop.  He lay there for a brief moment, closing his gray eyes while cursing.  A feline face appeared in his vision when he opened his eyes once more, nudging his cheek slightly.  Night then stood up gingerly, looking around.  A hoot from above drew his attention skyward.

            In the beech tree that grew on the side of the road, sitting on a graceful silvery gray branch, was the Dark Lady herself.  She wore black shimmering cloak over a sleeveless hunter green gown.  The colors made her blend in very well with the beech's leaves.  On her bare arms, he noticed that she wore thin silver bangle bracelets, clinking together musically when she moved her wrist slightly.  But her face was still the same wise and benevolent one that he remembered so well, those blue eyes still as sharp and piercing as if he had just seen them just an hour ago.  

            "Lady…" he murmured in slight shock, all thoughts of school vanished and forgotten.  Night vaguely noticed that Hedwig had now flown to his shoulder, Shadow oddly still at his feet.

            She smiled at him, the one that made his initial shock and nervousness disappear.  "It is good to see you again, young one.  I assume you are doing well."

            He immediately brightened at the sound of her voice.  Night didn't know why just the thought of her always solaced him somewhat.  She was a goddess after all.  But she always felt closer than that.  Was it the fact that she took pity on him?  Saved him from…something that he couldn't remember?  He was in terrible shape when he woke up, after all.  Or was it the fact that she had brought him here, to Grey Tower Town, where he found friends and family?  He didn't know.  He did know for certain that he was forever indebted to her.

            "Very well, in fact," he answered.  "I'm an elemental!  My mother-" He paused here.  He didn't know his real mother.  That would no doubt confuse the Lady.  "Zylle – she's the woman that adopted me, my mother," he elaborated, "my grandmother – Zylle's mother, and a few others help me control it.  I even won the tournament!  Also, I have friends now.  Though I'm still concerned over the whole memory loss thing."  When he realized he was rambling, he stopped and blushed in embarrassment.

            The Lady didn't seem to mind at all.  Rather, she laughed at his reaction.  "Don't worry so much.  Thanatos can go on for _hours_ when he is on a sugar high.  Or drunk."  She smiled and shrugged.  "Either way I'm bound to hear something odd."

            This relieved him.  He didn't appear like 'some overenthusiastic teenage twit that doesn't know when to shut up and be quiet' (Professor Coulter's words on certain students that she taught) to the Lady.

            "What I do want to know, though," she continued, a bit cryptically, "is if you are happy."

            Night blinked in surprise.  This was unexpected.

            Nuitari Hawking looked up at the Dark Lady of Annuvin, a smile playing on his lips, and replied seriously.  "I am happy.  There's no place I would rather be than here."

            And if this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up from it at all.

            I was so close.

            So why did I choose not to?

            Because…on some level, I wished to be selfish.

            It is a silly thing.  Ridiculous that I should want…no, crave to continue it.  I am Nuitari, after all.  I am the Storm Harbinger, the devouring darkness.  I am one of the cruel destroyers that fly on black wings, bringing destruction and mayhem.  I want to awaken, I truly do.  I want to serve my purpose once more.  I want to fly on the celestial winds of the universe, my black wings spread wide, experiencing the ecstasy of being part of something large.  I want to remember the good times and the bad.  I want to once more meet with my comrades again and be graced once more with the gentle smile of our creator, the Universe.  I want to have my old power and knowledge.  I want to awaken.

            But I didn't.

            I had the chance.  Right in front of me, I had the power to awaken.

            But I didn't.

            Because, despite the fact that I am not my Harbinger self, this mortal being is still essentially…me.  It is odd to say.  How can I be Nuitari and how can I be Harry?  There must be a separation, for how can one be mortal and the other immortal!  How can one remember and live the past before the existence of this planet, or even this solar system, and be the same as another who was born a mere few paltry years ago (seconds to me)?  If one knows the secrets of the ancient times, why does the other not when they are the same?  Why don't we have the same power, the power to annihilate and destroy at our slightest whim or wish?  Why does one have the wisdom of experience and age while the other is young and reckless?  It is improbable – no, impossible!  He and I could not be the same.

            I am Nuitari.  I wear the black and silver of the dark.  I carry the midnight weaponry that destroys all and never fails to cut or sear.  Black wings, darker than the darkest spring from my back when I wish to fly or hide themselves once more when I wish to walk without them.  I have walked, swam, ran, and flown over thousands of miles and light years in my existence.  I have seen countless worlds and civilizations, met with innumerable gods and individuals.  My magic is that of destructive chaos.  I have fought against the Maleficus.  I help maintain the balance of the universe.  My hands are soaked in the blood of myriad billions of worlds and I have heard untold numbers of screams.  I defied one of the Triumvirate, despite knowing that I'd be punished.  I am Nuitari.

            Harry is an innocent mortal.  He lost his parents at a young age, barely knowing their love and only privy to their memory from others.  He lived with terrible Muggles under the cupboard for ten years.  He passed difficult obstacles as a first year to face a man infested with evil in his first year.  He faced a basilisk with only a sword, a hat, and phoenix in his third year.  He drove off a troop of dementors, saving both himself and others in his third year.  He faced a dragon, dove down to the lack in a rescue mission, and survived a perilous maze to be forced as a component of evil's revival and then made to duel that monstrosity when only fourteen.  He was loved and he was hated.  He lost a friend.  He was beaten and abused.  He now lives a happier life without those foul memories in a home where he is loved for who he really is and not for his name or reputation.  He is the Black Dragon of the Arashi-Tenku.  He is Harry.

            How can he and I be the same?

            But as improbable, or impossible, as it seems, it is true.  I am Nuitari.  But I am also Harry.

            I assume it is part of our punishment, be it one that was meant to occur or not.  But the Verdict was passed and charged, and thus all of us are subject to this fate.  Locked away in the soul of a mortal, forced to endure the pain of earthly life.  To die, to be reincarnated once more.  Forever, for eternity, damned and branded as Unforgiven.  At least that is how it has been.  But I have not regretted my actions in the very least.  But I am myself and yet I am someone else.

            I guess the primary reason why I rejected the chance was for the thing I had no experience of in my prior life as a Harbinger.  Innocence.  I had always known the hows and whys.  I understood the nature of god and mortal well.  I trusted only in my creator and my fellow Harbingers.  I knew life and I knew death.  Heaven and Hell, as well as the realm forgotten by time, I have been to all and have come to see every mountain and crevasse of those lands of the Triumvirate.  The secrets were mine.  Due to this, I had a rather cynical outlook, though this was not particularly outstanding.  Most who were fated not to die were the same.  I had seen it all and then some.  Nothing could surprise me.  I had hunted and been hunted.  I had killed but could not be killed.  From the first moment of my existence, I had never been innocent.  That was too much of a luxury.  Innocence was not needed in this situation.  

            Should I take that away?

            It is an entirely new feeling.  I trust in people.  I trust in the so-called poetic justice.  Well, the me that is Harry does at any rate.  It is a strange idea, really.  As Nuitari, I just laugh at the mere thought of it.  To gain and understand the ways of the universe, to gain wisdom, requires that innocence be shed and cast aside like rubbish, trash.  It is a nice feeling though.  To have faith.  Before, the only faith that I had was that there was always a conflict and that there was always something to be destroyed to make room for something knew.  A sacrifice begot a new thing.  Innocence and faith were for those that had everything to lose, but very little gain.  I wonder at that.  Why do so much, when in the end, it is hardly worth it?  Mortals are strange beings, their values and ideals about their world silly in their naiveté and ingenuousness.  They do not know anything.  They were supposed to, if Chaos had his way.  He hadn't though.  But I don't have to anymore, to trust in the probably inevitable decay that will devour every civilization and people.  Well…of course, I believe in that.  I have seen it myself too many times, I was the agent of that destruction.  But there are other things to have faith for.  And, most importantly, I can have faith in that, in some strange and fantastic fashion, everything will turn out okay.

            I know.

            It's pathetic of me.

            But can I take that away?  Should I deprive that of an innocent?

            No, I don't think I can.

            I am Nuitari.

            I am Harry.

            I wait for Destiny to deal the cards of fate.

            I want to awaken.

Water, my life, my blood, show me what lies ahead.

Years after the rise of the Phantom

_War will once more rear its head_

_None will be spared, all will be taken in_

_Conspiracy and hypocrisy, suspicion and denial_

_The roots of ancient abhorrence will be the doom of us all_

The Sovereign will be exiled to oblivion

_Forced to watch as mortal bloodshed will ensue_

_Blood and Lineage will be more important than Life and Magic_

_The demon servant will be halted in its lust for killing_

_The light of swift death will not harm the dark-born Catalyst_

_And for his attempt on Nuitari Rei, the servant will be banished_

_But he will come again as great as ever_

_The Beautiful Lady smiles as she causes strife._

_The Catalyst will be tortured for nothing and will later vanish_

_Blood once more causes pain_

_The Dark Queen will appear once more_

_Elements will be divided_

_God against god, mortal against mortal_

_Angels once more fly across flame seared skies_

_Those of the elemental magic will fight_

_Phantom against Shining_

_Shining and Phantom against wizard_

_Secrets will be revealed_

_The Catalyst will realize his true self_

_The storm will brew and the darkness will devour_

_The Grey Tower will rise and the Gates will be opened_

_While the Spirits roar and clash_

_Three great powers will reunite once more_

_Cruel seraphs fly on wings shadowed by death_

_Harbingers of untold chaotic destruction_

_Sacred glass will shatter._

_May by the grace of the elements, spare us._

_Shards of the immortals._

_-Cassandra Morgaine, The Apocalypse Visions_

FIN…POR AHORA

And thus ends Elemental Genesis.  This now sixteen year-old (been so for since April 9th) has finished this fic…finally.

I'd like to thank everyone who has read this.  I never knew when I started this back in July of last year that it would become as great a success as it has turned out to be.  I, probably like most aspiring authors, thought I would bomb on this first writing venture of mine.  But with your encouragement and continuing curiosity, I managed to write more and better than I ever have.  You've put up with my late updates and delays (I'm still behind on a few), as well as with my excuses.  You've been great to me.  I have only all of you to thank for this.  

Elemental Prophecies will hopefully be up soon, though I'm not sure when.  But it will be.  I have major AP tests and finals coming up.  As for review responses, I have a good reason for not having them.  

**I've set up a Yahoo group**. which took a lot of time to set up considering the amount of information that I have.  It's the main reason why I was so late on this update.  Feel free to look.  **The Yahoo Groups address is on my profile.**

Special thanks go out to Arsenal, Rachel A. Prongs, Wolfmoon, and Quatre Winner.  Thanks you guys!

Thanks all of you.  You made this possible.

Sincerely, Raven Dragonclaw


	35. Elemental Prophecies

-"Gryffindor has bothered you again, hasn't he, Salazar?" she asked, no skip or delay in the song.

-"I believe you said that before after we covered animal to animal transfiguration." He winced from the memory. "Neither Hedwig or Shadow approved of **those** lessons."

-Okay, he admitted it. He made a screeching cat sound good. But he wasn't perfect! And he was working on it…

-"Yuck…" Night scowled, though he petted the dog affectionately. "I guess you like me, don't you?"

> -"I don't care if he's your honest-to-goodness son, Sirius Black! Hand him over to me and -"

Elemental Prophecies has now been posted!

Raven Dragonclaw


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